


Until Forever

by lostinfictionalworlds



Series: Until Further Notice [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: #AU, #Smut, #businessmanKurt, #established relationship, #fluff, #personalassistantBlaine, #slight angst, M/M, UFN sequel, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-02-25 11:55:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 97,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2620820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinfictionalworlds/pseuds/lostinfictionalworlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Money can’t buy happiness. Businessman Kurt is still trying to figure that one out, and performer Blaine thought he knew what he wanted, until he came across a Personal Assistant Ad.</p><p>This is the sequel of a story of acceptance and love, from one’s self and that of others, more specifically, one other. - Now Join the boys in this sequel of Until Further Notice as they continue their story, but this time they're together, professionally, personally and very, very intimately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N- Hey, Surprised? Me too! I honestly didn’t think that there was going to be a sequel to Until Further Notice. I was happy with where and how it ended, it was all mapped out that way and everything went to plan.
> 
> However, there has been an awful lot of brilliant feedback from the fic which I honestly can’t thank you all enough for, and with that a lot of people asking for more and how much they didn’t want it to end. Which got me to thinking, and then bam suddenly there was a whole other story there which I didn’t even realize I needed to write! But I do!
> 
> In the first fic I really wanted to concentrate on Kurt’s feelings about the things he desired yet didn’t think he deserved, and in this fic it’s mainly focused on those things now that he actually has them. How does it/will his effect him? How do they jump from Boss/PA to a loving and also working relationship, and one that is in the limelight? 
> 
> So in conclusion, I have spent a long time thinking and writing about where I want these characters to go now that they’ve gotten over ‘that’ phase in their lives, and what it means now that they have each other. Now here we are.
> 
> It’s looking like it’s going to be roughly around 10 or 11 chapters, and I don’t know how long the chapters will be yet, I really have no idea but probably half the size of the original fic. However UFN was longer than originally planned so you never know right? 
> 
> As always reviews and feedback do inspire me so much and will also help me along this curious little journey so please do feel free to drop a little comment if you’re enjoying this sequel. 
> 
> This picks up after the main story ends, but before the epilogue with the job application for a new PA, and please be mindful that the future one-shot I had posted takes place in and around this story. 
> 
> Updates are mostly likely once a week but we’ll see.
> 
> End of awfully longer author's note now, thank you, and I hope you enjoy.

…

 

Contract of Mr B. Anderson

 

Job Title: Personal Assistant /confidant /dear friend /live-in lover /the better half etc…

 

Blaine scoffs into his coffee mug, when he had walked into his office this morning to a questionable looking envelope sitting on his desk, this had certainly not been the contents he had expected to find inside. 

 

He sucks up some coffee dribble from his bottom lip and smirks, settling himself further more comfortably back into his chair, his ankles crossed leaning against the desk’s edge. 

 

His office had recently been revamped a little, and he loved it. The wall in the middle had been knocked through, creating a wide open yet still comfortably spacious area for two separate desks and chairs which had been moved to face each other.

 

The room seemed lighter, airier somehow and after the new office furniture had arrived and been installed, Blaine discovered that he loved nothing more than lounging back in his chair, his face tilted up towards the sun-warmth filled windows and an eye always peeked open towards the desk in front of him. Blaine was rarely seen without a smile these days, especially whilst working. 

 

Location: New York City, Manhattan. Our apartment…more specifically in our bed, the shower, Sam’s car when he’s blissfully unaware etc…

 

Ok Blaine really had to put the coffee cup down if he didn’t want coffee stains all over his shirt and slacks. This morning he’d made sure to dress well, picking out clothes that he knew would catch the eye of his overly keen employer. He doesn’t want them spoiled although he’s pretty sure that they’ll be ripped from his body shortly after he finishes reading this paper in his hands, or he hopes that it will come to that at some point.

 

Yes, they’re still living and working in Manhattan. Honestly Blaine can’t imagine them being anywhere else, there’s nowhere else they’d rather right now. They enjoy travelling to and from different cities and states for fundraisers and events and such, their nights and stays away together are never anything less than fun and lustful but New York is their city, where they live and work, it’s where they met. The city excites and ignites them in all ways possible. 

 

Their workspace had become their home and vice versa, and right now they were happy with that, no need for change, yet. 

 

And as for Sam’s car? They could have their own car, their own drivers but they choose not to. Sam is their friend as well as a trusted loyal employee and they enjoy having him around. 

 

And yes, people do have certain…urges and as long as there are black out windows and dear Sam is unaware there’s no harm right?

 

Job Type: Permanent-Full Time-Always

 

Blaine can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be or be doing. Blaine knows what these words really mean. Always, Kurt wants him with him, working for him always, but he also wants Blaine to take some time out for his music. To play, and to write, to experiment and let himself try, again.

 

It had only been few days since Burt had left and Blaine and Kurt had continued their everyday routines. Only this time they were a ‘they, a them, a we, an us’ and not just Kurt and his PA Blaine.

 

Blaine knows that there is still lot of hurdles to overcome, they have to face the music sooner or later, or should he say face the cameras, but there still is time for that. Blaine will not put any added pressure on to Kurt, he will allow the ball to bounce in his court, and happily go along with whatever Kurt feels is best, both professionally and personally for them. 

 

Blaine sometimes thinks that his heart is full enough to burst, but then Kurt always surprises him by doing something to stretch it and expand just that little bit more, splitting at the seams with love and happiness. 

 

Work Pattern: None stop /my every beck and call /when I run out of coffee etc…

 

Blaine’s honeyed moss eyes crinkle at the corners, smiling as his lips pull up into a wide grin. Kurt still hasn’t quite mastered how Blaine expertly makes his coffee each morning. Blaine isn’t sure that Kurt will ever try, and the thought leaves Blaine tingle all over with a strange sort of giddiness that he can’t really begin to explain. 

 

Start Date: …

 

Blaine grins at this or should he say the lack of it. When exactly did this all start? The first interview? The day Blaine moved into the condo? The first time Blaine explored Kurt’s glorious naked body at Christmas?

 

Blaine likes to think, that it started long before any of that. It started when Blaine took that small leap of faith and applied for a job to a company he had next to no knowledge of, all because it was time for him to take a chance. It started when Blaine somehow knew that he could trust and fall in love with a man with the most amazing eyes, and skin and hair, yet didn’t even know, at all. A man who he hadn’t even had a proper conversation with yet Blaine knew deep down that he would be willing to spend forever striking up many conversations with him. 

 

Experience: Pfftt??

 

Blaine knew what this meant. Experience in what, exactly? Personal Assistance, business and admin, fashion design? … Love?

 

Kurt may not like to admit it but he really is a sap, and Blaine can read him like a book. He could imagine him sitting there typing out this contract, thinking of all of these things in his head and the thought process that lead him there. 

 

Blaine liked to spend most free nights whilst wrapped up together between the sheets teasing him about it. Behind closed doors Kurt was at Blaine’s mercy and Blaine knew it. Kurt would do anything for him, anything to see him smile or make him laugh. Kurt loved nothing more than sitting with a glass of wine listening to Blaine play the piano or strum a few notes on the guitar. With the matching relaxing lilt of Blaine’s hums and occasional ooh’s and aah’s Kurt could easily be described as being in pure bliss. 

 

But down in the office or out in the real world, Blaine liked taking a quiet, gentle step back. He liked the smooth and stern sound of Kurt’s voice as he directed him and other employees from task to task. He liked watching Kurt order people around, dedicating jobs and dictating. Blaine loved to see the determined flash in Kurt’s eyes and the upturn of his chin when something really narked him.

 

Blaine loved the way it felt to watch Mr big boss man throughout the day, all cool and clipped and calm like, and then magically watch the transformation later on that night between the sheets. Looking down at Kurt lying flat on his back underneath him, with their bare chests pressed together, hips pumping up and down, all slick and hot, whilst Kurt makes the most delicious sounds of submission, is just one other thing to add ot the list that Blaine would never grow tired of. 

 

The thing is though, if anything has been proven it’s that experience in most fields is not necessarily needed, if at all. It’s what you make of the journey getting there, how you learn and grow through any situation. It’s how you live in that moment, not how you got there. 

 

Education Level: Um Sex Ed? (too much?)

 

A deep giggle escapes him, he can’t help it. They both know fine well that wherever or whatever Blaine studied in the past has no detrimental effect here. Of course Kurt would choose to take this section to some place…dirty. 

 

Oh what exactly is too much? Let’s just say that certain bedroom activities have developed and certainly been a little more spontaneous as of late. Their bodies have become nicely acquainted with many areas of the condo- the kitchen counters, the dining table, the couches in both the main room and the study,up against the book shelves, even the bar’s sturdiness had been tested, most surfaces of the office, and pretty much the whole entirety of the downstairs gym and spa area. 

 

Santana has been given a stern warning many times to make her appearances well known prior to her untimely arrivals, and Sam knows now that most mornings it’s best to just wait in the car until he’s called upon. 

 

Because who doesn’t like the perfect wake up call? And god knows how long it could go on for. 

 

Blaine’s old bedroom had been turned into a kind of leisure room, which consists mostly of a small poker table pushed into the corner, a large couch sitting in front a wide screen plugged up to his games console and a mini fridge fully stocked by the wall. The other half of the room is like a kitty’s paradise, with food dishes, beds and baskets, scratching posts, catnip toys and balls of yarn strewn all over the floor.

 

Let’s just say it provides a great distraction to Jester when ever his ‘daddies’ need some alone time.

 

And of course the Xbox and mini fridge provides a great distraction to Sam too. 

 

Salary: Kisses, and other things.. (Use your imagination) 

 

Oh Blaine really does not have to use his imagination. His body still aches, tired and sore but deliciously tingling from last night’s activities. 

 

At this point his salary is like a moot point. Kurt likes to constantly reassure himself that Blaine is earning what he deserves, whereas Blaine has been trying yet failing to get Kurt to reduce his salary slightly and give the remainder to some of their preferred charities. 

 

Blaine is doing what he loves, both literally and figuratively and does not need money to enhance this unbelievable experience. 

 

Kurt had merely tsk’d, donated rather generously to the chosen charities like he usually does anyway and continued to pay Blaine a damn well good wage. 

 

Sometimes there are things that are just not worth arguing over. 

 

Job Summary, brief details of role etc:  
Requirements as follows:  
• Honesty, loyalty, trust and most importantly love.  
• Always continue to make me laugh and smile. Make me wonder, amaze me as you always effortlessly do!  
• Continue to organize and multi-task my life as fabulously as always  
• Prioritize your work with your personal life and time. Make time for YOU (and your music!)   
• Never stop thrilling me with you words and your wit.  
-Please don’t leave, and most importantly never, ever change who you are!

 

Blaine stifles a sniffle as his eyes clear up and sting with hopeless warm watery tears. He smiles and tries to blink them away, shaking his head whilst staring down at the paper in his hands.

 

Blaine has promised to start attending some open mic nights occasionally and to let Kurt gently push him into the right direction. He has not made any promises as to what he is going to do directly about possibly restarting a music career but he has promised to take the first step with Kurt’s help and simply try. This was something Kurt had been very sure about, hell bent on not letting Blaine give up completely no matter how happy he currently was. And Blaine loved him impossibly even more for it. 

 

This man. Oh this man. What has Blaine ever done to deserve somebody as incredible as Kurt Hummel. 

 

If said contract is proven to be satisfactory and suited to your needs, please do return to Mr K. Hummel ASAP, who you may or may not most likely find in your bedroom, minimally clothed, desperately awaiting your confirmation. 

 

Blaine unfolds himself from his chair, swipes at his eyes grinning madly and stands with the paper gripped tightly in his grasp. The thought of finding Kurt waiting for him excites him greatly, but he knows fine well that he won’t be naked as disappointing as it will be. They have a meeting to get to in roughly thirty minutes and Kurt is nothing if not punctual, even if a roll around in the sheets sounds far more enticing than a boring budget meeting. 

 

This is a game, a teasing lure to keep him going, on his toes all day until they’re back in the privacy of their home, and Blaine loves it. Blaine spins around to head towards the door, eyes immediately landing on a figure standing in the doorway blocking his path, his eyes locking onto eyes of blue and green, clouded with grey, utterly beautiful and completely mesmerizing.

 

Kurt’s wearing a navy blue suit with subtle silver pinstripes, a matching button down vest with a platinum chain attached to the pockets and a crisp white shirt underneath. All of that mixed with swept up hair with the odd strays poking out sexily and a breathless smile to match. 

 

Hot Damn.

 

“Do you accept?” Kurt’s voice is pitched low, it sends a shiver though Blaine immediately.

 

Blaine licks his lips and moves his eyes appreciatively over Kurt’s body from his legs to his thighs, upwards over his chest, his neck, his jaw, his lips and then finally his eyes again. Blaine clears his throat. “Wh-uh- what?”

 

Kurt smiles, slowly coming forward towards Blaine until their feet are slotted together side by side, noses almost brushing, warm rapid breaths circulating in the stifled air between them. 

 

Kurt drops his eyes to the paper in Blaine’s hands and then back up. Blaine follows the movement and Kurt drops his voice to a husk above a whisper. “The contract. Do you accept?” 

 

Blaine swallows, hard. Of course he accepts, why and how in the hell would he, could he, not accept. He nods steadily, blinking whilst giving Kurt a onceover again, biting down on his bottom lip. God they have to go, they can’t get into this not now, as much as his body is thrumming and vibrating, telling Blaine to take, take, take. 

 

They need to cool down, Blaine needs to try and tamper the mood slightly, tone it down until they’re out of the danger zone. He jiggles the paper in his hand, the crinkling sound slices through the huff of breaths and quiet inhalation. “This isn’t real right?” 

 

Kurt looks affronted but Blaine can see the smile shining in his eyes and the slight upturn of his lips.

 

“Of course it’s real.” Blaine smiles.

 

“So this is my actual newly drafted contract? This is it, everything in here is legit?”

 

Kurt reaches out and curls a finger over Blaine’s shirt, just over the bone of his collar, his eyes sweep over him and Blaine does his internal happy dance. Yes he made the right choice whilst dressing when Kurt was showering this morning.

 

“Yes it is.” Blaine arches a brow and Kurt finally caves, grinning, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Ok well it is, for just yours and my eyes only. There may be a slightly altered version for more professional viewing.” 

 

Blaine resists the urge to duck in and just kiss him, this game really has turned out to be a scrumptious little teaser indeed. 

 

Kurt drops his hand and slowly curls his fingers around Blaine’s hand, opens up his fingers and smoothes out the paper. “You didn’t finish. You haven’t read the last part.”

 

Kurt is so close, his words and his breath brushing against Blaine’s face like the softest, sweetest pressure. Blaine glances down at the paper and skims over the last part. 

 

Whilst he reads he’s aware of Kurt’s hands rubbing gently up and down his arms, sliding back down and landing on his waist, gripping him tightly whilst Kurt leans in and leaves a barely there kiss to his neck, his lips rubbing and sucking into Blaine’s skin. 

 

\--Please Note- This position can be both strenuous and demanding in every essence of the words and ultimate durance is required. Your contracted position will remain secure until… forever? ... Yes I Think I’d like to keep you forever—

 

…

 

Blaine’s words feel locked in his throat, he’s choking on air as his eyes fill and his heart pounds against his ribcage. The paper falls from his hands and crumples to floor between them.

 

Kurt continues kissing up his neck, to his jaw, his cheeks and then presses a final firm kiss to his lips. He wraps his arms around Blaine’s body and keeps him close and tight, and just holds him.

 

Forever. Blaine tests the word in his head, feels how it would taste on his tongue, how it would feel on his skin, rubbing against the feel of forever on Kurt’s skin. His body warm and smooth and compliant against his, sharing touches and breaths and forever. 

 

Blaine loses himself in the kiss, his long dark lashes fluttering closed and fanning against his rose flushed face as Kurt’s lips work against his. Blaine pulls back just enough to gasp, a slick wet sound followed by a harsh whisper.

 

“Yes. I think I’d like that too.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- This chapter is set a little around the time of the one-shot Settling.

Blaine enters the kitchen all showered and dressed and styled wonderfully to a little bundle of grey fluff parading around his ankles and meowing loudly up at him, little beady eyes wide and bright and blinking. 

 

Blaine bends over quickly, and scratches Jester behind his neck in that little spot tucked just underneath his beautiful engraved collar. 

 

“Good morning to you buddy, and what can I help you with on this fine Monday morning?”

 

“Don’t feed him. I’ve just gave him some scraps. He’s trying to break our unit, trying to test us.” 

 

Blaine straightens and looks over to the breakfast island where Kurt is seated on a stool, legs crossed and a small white china cup in his hand. He’s looking down at his phone on the counter, with a hidden smirk, a smirk that only Blaine knows how to detect.

 

Blaine smiles, shoos gesture away and walks over to where Kurt is sitting, placing his hands on Kurt’s bent knees, unfolding his legs and then slotting himself in between with his arms draped over Kurt’s shoulders, fingers twined together behind Kurt’s head. 

 

Kurt puts the cup down on the counter and relaxes himself into Blaine’s hold, blinking up at him through his lashes, unable to hold back his small shy smile any longer. 

 

At this close distance Blaine can make out the slight light trail of whiskers on Kurt’s chin and jaw line, that he has obviously kept neatly even after his morning shave. It takes Blaine a lot of resistance not to lean down and in and graze the little hairs with his teeth. Very sexy. 

 

The weather outside is a little drab with a slight breakthrough of sunshine cascading through the far windows and over the floorboards in thin slices. It never fails to amaze Blaine how Kurt’s eyes pick up the flecks and reflections from the window’s glaze so easily, so magnificently. 

 

Blaine could loose himself in those eyes, happily. The way that they dot and swirl with various shades and added grey, and how they coordinate beautifully with those pink lips- especially when they part into a secret almighty smile, a smile that is rarely shown, just for Blaine.

 

Those lips have done wonders, Blaine knows only too well what those lips are capable of. 

 

Blaine can’t help but grin like a man possessed and Kurt just grins straight back at him knowingly. If anyone were here they’d think that they’d taken happy crazy pills or something. Even Jester though put out at Blaine’s shoo-off at first is purring contently to himself over on the couch. 

 

It’s unusual and it feels slightly out of place to be this relaxed, this happy for a Monday morning. Mondays are always the pain in the ass days that pave the way for the week. There’s nothing especially out of the ordinary or uncharacteristically different about today. It’s just nice. 

 

Blaine lowers his head, places a soft kiss between Kurt’s eyebrows and then pecks the tip of his nose. “Good morning to you.”

 

Kurt grins up at him, his eyes changing colour and shade as his emotions unfurl beneath the system, it’s fascinating. He squints a little cheekily. “Didn’t we do this like an hour ago? I specifically remember the most fabulous wake up call.”

 

Blaine bops his nose, and then settles himself onto a stool beside Kurt at the counter. The metal rod of the chair frame scrapes across the floor tile noisily as he scoots himself closer. Kurt flinches slightly and Blaine can’t tell if it’s because of the sound or the lack of touching even though Blaine is still just there, he suspects it’s probably a mix of both. 

 

“You remembered correctly. But we’ve been separated since then, we’re up and ready for the day and now I’m saying good morning to you again. Because I can and because I want to.” 

 

Kurt rolls his eyes fondly but Blaine doesn’t miss the way his skin flushes prettily.

 

Blaine picks up Kurt’s cup and sniffs at it curiously, peering down at the dark brown strong smelling liquid and makes a face, before looking back up at Kurt and adding. “I just love this you know. This whole thing, the whole… domesticity about it. I guess it’s just turned out way easier than I thought it would.”

 

“We’ve lived together for like over a year now?” Kurt quips, clearly amused. Blaine just shrugs his shoulders, a slight blush creeping up his neck and over his cheeks, his eyes swirling with colour. 

 

Before Kurt can really think about it and respond properly Blaine holds the cup up to his lips, inhaling deeply. Kurt side eyes him, smirking, unable to pass comment. “It’s green tea. I’m detoxing.” 

 

Blaine takes a tentative sip, swallowing quickly with a face of pure disgust. Kurt laughs behind his hand as Blaine slides the cup back over to him, then stands and steps over to his self proclaimed coffee making area of the kitchen. 

 

Kurt swivels around on his chair, watching Blaine’s every movement, admiring the flex in his muscles as he shifts about and the slight ripple in his firm buttocks through his fitted black pant as he bends and leans. “Well I’m detoxing up until you’re around to make my coffee.That’s the deal.”

 

He chuckles when Blaine spins back around, flashing him a quick cheesy grin and a wink, and then dances back over, freshly made coffees in hand. 

 

They settle into a discussion about what their week holds for them whilst they drink. Kurt toasts waffles and Blaine spreads syrup over them, and smiles to himself as he drizzles a messy heart shape over Kurt’s plate with sticky honeyed substance. 

 

Sam buzzes up to let them know that he’s downstairs waiting with the car, and Blaine busies himself putting away the dishes whilst Kurt stands and pats down his suit, checking his pockets for the usual essentials needed when leaving. 

 

“I like that. What you said before about us being a unit. You know with Jes and stuff, I like it.” Blaine grins, speaking quietly out of nowhere as he finishes up, fetches his suit jacket from the back of the couch and comes to stand with Kurt near the big archway. 

 

Kurt’s cheeks flush a pretty pink and he’s tries to fix his hair that doesn’t need fixed in one of the fancy hanging wall mirrors. Blaine can see that he’s struggling for words to answer him, but Blaine doesn’t mind. Kurt said it that’s the most important thing, he’s just embarrassed that he’s been caught out, that’s all.

 

Blaine leans in, curling his fingers around Kurt’s hand and squeezing as he gives him a lingering peck on the cheek. It has to last them for the day, when they exit the elevator on the ground floor they’re in work mode. 

 

He startles as Kurt suddenly turns on the spot, causing their mouths and lips to press together softly with the movement. Kurt hums lowly, a delicious sound as he tickles the short tamed curls by Blaine’s ears with his fingers and moves in close. 

 

Kurt whispers “I love it too.” 

 

He gestures to the room around them and the barely there space between them. Blaine latches on to his every word and movement, his pupils darkening, lips parting with little gusts of breath. “And honey, with you here with me, anything is as easy as we want it to be.” 

 

Before Blaine can either melt into a puddle on the floor or lunge forward to tackle Kurt down on the ground and never let him leave, Kurt starts tugging his hand towards the main entrance.

 

“Come on Mr Anderson. We’ve important work to do.”

 

Blaine groans, his head hanging as he bobs along. Though inside he’s dancing for pure joy.

 

*

 

The week turns out to be long and boring and hardly productive and still strangely manic at the same time. It’s certainly not one of Kurt’s better weeks, but his business is still booming, his money is still there, everybody is still happy in their jobs. Kurt knows that he has to take more time to focus on the fashion part of his job. Garments just won’t sew themselves out of thin air after all.

 

Baby steps, as Blaine likes to remind him, everything is just a work in progress. 

 

By the time Thursday evening rolls around Santana is over. After finishing some chores, she stands in the kitchen seasoning chicken strips to make fajitas in between sips from her alarmingly luminous self created cocktail. 

 

“You should pay me more.” She says, seemingly not directed to anyone in particular, her tone a little monotone, eyes flicking over the top of the stove to the couch. Blaine is sprawled out on the thing face down, with Jester kneading at the muscles in his lower back and Kurt sitting underneath his legs on the other end of the couch, massaging his shins and thighs. 

 

Kurt happily ignores her comment, instead concentrating deeply on the tight mounds of flesh underneath Blaine’s sweat pants, trying not to allow his hands to wander too far upwards. Nobody would know that mentally he’s telling himself that if he could choose a superpower, any one, X-Ray vision would certainly have to be in his top three. 

 

Blaine lifts his head, trying not to groan too loudly at the painful feel of Jester digging his claws into the cloth of his shirt, and the oh so wonderful feel of Kurt’s fingertips rubbing into his flesh. 

 

“Whad’ya talkin’ bout?” Blaine mumbles.

 

Santana narrows her eyes and smirks, pointing towards them. “This. This live sex show that I’m currently subjected to whilst trying to kindly make you two fool’s dinner. I should get paid extra for this.” 

 

“You get paid for cleaning my house Santana. Not using my ingredients or raiding my liquor cabinet. You could leave now if you wanted.” Kurt doesn’t lift his eyes from his hands and there’s no malice in his tone, none whatsoever. It’s just Kurt, and his tone and his way-his Santana way. 

 

Santana scoffs with a slight smirk and gets back to stirring the chicken around in the pan with a sizzle. They’ve never changed, her and Kurt’s friendship or dynamic has never changed, and they love each other more than ever. When Blaine joined the equation it only got bigger and better and weirder and more stupid. Santana very rarely says things that she actually means. She loves the fact that the two can be themselves around her and can enjoy each other’s company, she’s flattered if she’s honest, but won’t ever admit that, she just likes to make her mouth work, she wouldn’t be her if she didn’t. 

 

Kurt continues his handiwork and quietly adds. “It’s been a long hard week, we’re tired and sore. It’s just a massage. You know how good I am at these, I rub your shoulders all the time.” He knows that he doesn’t have to justify, not to Santana of all people, but he likes to. 

 

“And it’s not over yet, the week that is.” Blaine pipes up, his voice muffled from the cushion he’s resting his face on. Kurt squeezes just below his thigh and smiles at the way Blaine’s body tenses momentarily. 

 

“Yuh-huh.” Santana takes a gulp from her drink and starts dishing the chicken out onto plates. 

 

Truth be told Blaine and Kurt make the most of what time they have together back in the condo after working hours, no matter who’s there or not. This is there space, their sanctuary and be damned if they’re going to hide even more then they do during the day.

 

At least Kurt is actually brave enough to do this at all.

 

Ok so hiding may be a strong word, they’re not intentionally hiding anything from anyone, they’re just being careful about their newly labelled relationship status. They’re careful about protecting what’s theirs and what’s precious to them. 

 

Once they are open and out they know what to expect, and they have to be prepared for it. 

 

After dinner they clean up and have a drink together over on the couches. Santana demands that they all go shopping at the weekend together because she needs their opinion on a dress that she has her eye on.

 

Later that night Kurt lies in bed, his mind racing with thoughts, quietly contemplating whilst Blaine sleeps soundly beside him nestled into the crook of his arms. 

 

The next morning Kurt wakes earlier than usual, he had spent very little time the night before sleeping and a lot of time thinking, fighting the demons in his head and pushing at the walls that surround the chambers of his heart. 

 

When Blaine wakes and dresses and comes downstairs, Kurt approaches him -with shaky but determined steps and a look of control washing over him- at the breakfast island. He touches and kisses and whispers his desires to be bold and to try something new and different with Blaine which may seem out of the ordinary and out of place. 

 

Blaine being Blaine loses himself in Kurt’s touch and taste and of course agrees to whatever Kurt is saying to him, he happily agrees and braces himself. His skin shivering with anticipation. 

 

That weekend after their shopping trip with Santana, they spend the time curled against each other either in bed or one of the couches with their laptops and tablets, following face book and twitter feeds, refreshing Tumblr blogs and wearily clicking open fan mail from excited fans who claim to ‘ship’ them so hard.

 

It’s very strange and hard to take in, but Blaine has read the magazines and seen the TV shows, he’s had enough time now to know what to expect. He has Kurt at his side and that’s all that matters to him.

 

*

 

On Sunday evening Kurt finds Blaine at his keyboard in the study, happily pressing down on to the keys as he loses himself in the music, pouring everything that he has in him into the melody. Kurt leans against the doorjamb, arms folded and just watches a while, before settling down on to the little love seat, sliding his eyes closed and listens intently with a smile, tapping his fingers over his stomach in time to the tune. 

 

When Blaine finishes he gets up and moulds himself over Kurt down on the couch, pressing his body down onto him, chest to thigh. Kurt blinks up at him when Blaine presses soft kisses to his clothed shoulder. 

 

“When are you going to start playing again?” Kurt’s tone is smooth and calm but pitched with a definite questionable tone. 

 

Blaine makes a confused face and Kurt reaches up, pressing a finger to the crease on his wrinkled brow. “I mean professionally. I mean more than this, than here. When are you going to let me secure my side of the deal and help you get back into that stuff again?”

 

Blaine does nothing but smile back down at him, shyly like a kid unable to take praise very well, or a lovely looking guy or gal not sure how to accept compliments. 

 

Kurt drops it that night but he wont drop it altogether, and he knows that Blaine knows that he won’t either because Kurt had also agreed to something also.

 

*

 

On rare occasions their work loads and schedules sometimes cause them to split at certain times of the day, they don’t particularly like it but they get on with it, sometimes it’s necessary and sometimes its just nice. 

 

Sam however hates it, and is always run ragged by the end of the day, chauffeuring two different people at different times is a lot, but Kurt’s old chauffer had quietly retired a few weeks ago, and for some reason Kurt really does seem hell bent on the fact that he and Blaine share a car. 

 

Blaine won’t admit it, but there’s something deliciously possessive and protective about it. 

 

During the week following their little snuggle in the study and that one-sided conversation, Kurt takes some time off from a quiet Wednesday afternoon and makes his own way back to the apartment, saying that he has errands to run and wants some fresh air.

 

Blaine takes his place at a corporate lunch time event, it’s nothing important but its good to show some form of presentation and later after he’s done eating and schmoozing, Sam picks him up and takes him back home. 

 

Blaine gets himself all worked up and excited as he travels up in the condo’s elevator. He forgets the little mental notes he made in his head to pass onto Kurt about his afternoon, as thoughts and images of where he may find Kurt and what doing when he gets to the floor, floods and fill him deliciously. 

 

Their relationship may be publically known now to most cases and those who care but that still doesn’t meant they’re flaunting it all over the place. Something’s are still better left to the imagination, and some words just sound sweeter and taste better on the tongue when in the silence of privacy rather than a crowded function room or in front of the flash of cameras. 

 

The elevator doors begin to slide open and Blaine slips out before they’re even fully parted at opposite sides. He starts tugging at the knot of his tie, loosening it and fussing with his collar buttons as he heads through to the main room, he stops in his tracks. 

 

The couches have been moved over just a fraction towards the large windows, the bar top and stools has been subtly turned an inch in another direction and there in the newly created space beside the back wall sits a beautiful baby grand piano, painted a gorgeous deep cherry. 

 

Blaine just smiles incredulously, unable to form any words, or find the right vocal muscles he needs to be able to call out for Kurt. Instead he rushes over, smoothes his fingers over the polished wood as he lifts the lid and sits himself down at the small bench. 

 

Kurt finds him there from his little hide-out in his office a short while later, coming into the room with a grin and a twinkle in his eye. He leans over the top of the piano and watches eagerly as Blaine’s hands skilfully glide over the piano keys, creating the most beautiful skin-bumping sounds. 

 

Not so long after that Kurt and Blaine find themselves lying naked and breathless on the cool wood of the floorboards, half of their bodies shielded somehow under the piano bench and the other halves peeking out from underneath it. 

 

“Wow.” Kurt breathes, drumming patterns into Blaine’s hip. 

 

Blaine hums and giggles. “Yep.” He responds, and then turns to his side, nuzzling his nose up and around Kurt’s cheek and jaw. “Thank you.” He whispers. “Thank you so much, that was so nice of you to-”

 

Kurt presses his fingers to Blaine’s lips, successfully shushing him with a grin and a slight teasing but gentle nudge of his knee into the warm crease of Blaine’s groin. 

 

Kurt’s voice is quiet but sure. “Don’t- don’t say thank you. I don’t need to hear it. You know that I would do anything for you, provide you with anything. But you know what I want.” 

 

Blaine licks his lips and slowly starts to nod, unable to tear his shimmering eyes away from Kurt’s, so raw and open and full of definite clear sincerity. Kurt slowly pushes their foreheads together and breathes over Blaine’s lips. “Will you? Will you do it, for me?”

 

“Anything.” Blaine answers with a slight growl, rolling them over out from under the vicinity of the piano and the bench and flopping down on top of Kurt, pinning his hands at his sides. “Anything for you.” 

 

*

 

And so when Kurt now takes time out to work on some designs and drawings, Blaine does the same and sits at his newly acquired toy with a pad of blank sheet music and a pencil, a small transportable recording device and a pair of over the head earphones. 

 

Sometimes they schedule these little sessions differently, so that when one of them isn’t in the office or available for calls or messages, the other one is. But sometimes when the workload is less frantic and harried they take the time out together.

 

It’s during one of these times when Kurt has decided to stretch out on the living room floor and sketch out some sample ideas, pages among pages spread out all around him with small lead pencils and chunks of dark chalk rolling around. 

 

Blaine flourishes away at the piano in the background, making some lovely experimental background music for Kurt to work to, when suddenly the one thing happens that Kurt has been bracing himself for.

 

“Kurt, could you come here please?” 

 

Kurt looks up to find Blaine with his earphones dangling around his neck- the soft beat of music pulsating out of them quietly- his eyes kind and warm and soft focused on him as he beckons him over with a finger.

 

Quietly Kurt climbs to a stand and joins him, scooting down onto the bench next to him, pressed close thigh to thigh. And together they play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Thank you for reading as always : )


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Warnings for Smut- like smutty smut… It’s about time eh? ;)

There’s a debut night for Kurt’s new range ‘Mr and Mr’ coming up. He started the range as a little personal side project, mostly items he’d fantasized about dressing Blaine up in. But then he realized that he could actually turn into it into something and use it to coincide with June’s ‘Pride month’. The proceeds of the sales will be donated to organizations dedicated to supporting marriage equality and ‘LGBTQ’ youth who struggle within their current environments. 

 

The two are just a number of causes in which Kurt is a keen advocate for, but these two seemed very fitting for the nature of the new line and its name. 

 

Apart from the suits that he and Blaine had worn as a little teaser to the ‘stars under the stars’ event not long ago and of course the suits from the premier a while back, nobody has seen anything from this line and it’s kind of turning into a big deal. 

 

Blaine understands the underlining meaning and importance in this new project. Kurt hasn’t designed anything as big as this for quite some time, he’s shied away from the limelight and buried himself under the ‘business’ side of things, but now he’s back and it’s mainly all down to Blaine.

 

Kurt now has Blaine to ground him, to keep him whole and humble, to drag him back down to earth if needed. Kurt has told Blaine so himself, as well as Santana, Sam, Carole and Burt- pretty much everybody who knows the two well enough. 

 

This isn’t just something that has been proposed to rake in a few new million, no this is something designed to help a cause, to raise awareness, and Blaine has been a part of it, he’s been there seeing it all come to life from the start. Blaine’s chest expands at this, as his heart swells with pride and of course love. 

 

Kurt is spending less time at meetings or in the office and more time in the drawing room and at his sewing table as he experiments with swatches and fabrics. On top of that he recently opened up a new building downtown which has served as a new fashion house for himself and his team’s new projects- he spends an awful lot of time there too.

 

This has resulted in Blaine having to step up into Kurt’s shoes and his role a little more as head presentation for Kurt Hummel Enterprizes whenever Kurt can’t be there himself.

 

At first Blaine likes it, the responsibility and the trust that Kurt has placed in him, it makes him feel incredible. He enjoys –although still a little saddened- the way they part in the back of Sam’s car in the morning, with a peppering of kisses and a look of longing in their eyes, and hushed words of ‘this is just temporary.’

 

Sam drops Kurt off at the new design building first and then takes Blaine to his first appointment of the day wherever it may be, and then coming and going between the two of them as and when he’s needed. 

 

They text throughout the day, Blaine makes sure to make notes and drafts of everything he’s been made of aware of, and then in the evenings when they’re both back home tired and starved- of food and of each other- they catch up.

 

There’s something strangely homely and lovely about it all, just the two of them sharing kitchen space, tasting sauce from the stirring spoon or dollops from fingertips. The slight separation between them during the day is definitely a far jump from what they’ve been used to but its delightful feeling to be able to reacquaint with each other at the end of the day. 

 

Lounging around together in the living room or in bed, sinfully close to naked and teasing with fingers and tongues as they divulge in each others day’s is something that Blaine can see himself slowly becoming accustomed to. 

 

*

 

It’s a week until the opening night of ‘Mr and Mr’ and everything is crazy. Kurt is up a height-naturally, Santana is trying to help in her own Santana way and is actually also modelling for Kurt on the small runway on the night. Sam is just being Sam, and efficiently staying out of everyone’s way except for when he’s needed with his car.

 

Blaine feels like he is one miniscule blip away from a meltdown. In all of these months gone by working for Kurt he’s never experienced anything so intense, so demanding and occasionally unyielding. But he’s desperate to do his best, to get everything just right for Kurt. He’s happy to power through and make sure everything is perfect and running smoothly, so that Kurt has one less thing to worry about.

 

After all this is his job, he’s paid to support Kurt and do everything he can to assist him and his company and other business associations. The fact that he has fallen in love with the man, that he cares for him deeply, loves to see him smile and hear him laugh, enjoys the feeling of Kurt’s shoulders sagging with the tension seeping out of him under his gentle caressing hands- all of that is just an added extra. 

 

Blaine would do anything for Kurt, he worships the ground he walks on. Simple.

 

But that’s not to say that things can’t go a little pear shaped from time to time. Everybody is only human after all. Spending time with Kurt is like Blaine’s oxygen supply and when things get rough and distant Blaine struggles to feel like he can breathe right, thought he acts completely fine. Blaine is more dependant on Kurt than he will probably ever come to fully realize.

 

One late dreary morning Blaine is trying to make his way out of a well known busy establishment after a somewhat hellish meeting about entertainment, catering, partnering sponsors, security details and a yada yada yada- all for the new line’s opening night. 

 

He’s hungry after skipping breakfast that morning in order to leave on time to get to two separate meetings already- because Kurt couldn’t make it to either if them. He’s tired with subtle but telltale dark patches under his eyes and a slight crick in his neck. He hasn’t been sleeping very well, a lot of nights over the past week or so have been restless causing him to stir and flip flop around the mattress until he eventually just gives up all together and gets up to sit at his keyboard for a short while, hoping not to disturb Kurt.

 

It hasn’t helped that Kurt hasn’t been getting into bed with him at the same time recently. It amazes Blaine how quickly he became dependant on having the curve of Kurt’s lithe warm body snug up against his at night, and how his body always knows even in deep sleep when Kurt isn’t there beside him. 

 

Overall he’s just in a fussy, half-assed mood which isn’t really like him, but it’s nearing the end of the week, an exhausting build up of weeks altogether, and soon all of the mayhem of the new line will settle down and maybe he and Kurt can take a little vacation away someplace? Just them. Some place private. 

 

He’s still yet to discover Kurt’s secret little English holiday home, a tremor of excitement works its way up and through Blaine’s body at just the thought.

 

Blaine tumbles out of the elevator on the ground floor along with a busy, hurried crowd and makes his way towards to building’s exit. He texts Sam to let him know that he’s on his way to the car. He plans on heading back to the condo for lunch, may be he’ll bump into Kurt and be able to persuade him to take an hour out with him. May be they can head down to the steam room and help each other relax in various ways down there before getting back to their busy schedules for the rest of the day.

 

Hopefully he’ll feel more refreshed afterwards, a little more human after a good meal, a little rest and hopefully some good loving- if he’s lucky. 

 

He heads towards the revolving doors at the exit and pulls up a new text message box after reading the message from Sam that said he was down by the curb waiting for him.

 

Blaine Work  
Please tell me that you can spare your assistant an hour over lunch? I have very assistant-y things that I need my boss to assist me with? Pretty please xx

 

Kurt P  
Is this serious work stuff or is my assistant just looking for an excuse to get me alone? X

 

Blaine Work  
Maybe both? ;)… I miss you xoxo

 

Kurt P  
I miss you too. See you in about a half hour honey…make a sandwich and warm the hot tub!! Xx

 

Blaine grins as he pockets his phone and heads out onto the sidewalk, his bad mood and tension already starting to subside.

 

“Blaine? Mr Anderson?”

 

“Mr Anderson over here, please-”

 

“Blaine what can you tell us about Kurt’s new clothing line?”

 

Blaine holds his hand up to his face to try and cover his eyes from the sudden blinding flashes as he tried to push past the bustling crowd surrounding him.

 

“Blaine you look great, could we get a picture?”

 

“Blaine are you wearing parts of the new range right now? Do you dress yourself”

 

“Blaine where is Mr Hummel right now, why isn’t he attending with you?”

 

“Blaine do you get all of Kurt’s dirty work to do whilst he plays in the big leagues?”

 

“Mr Anderson, is Kurt too busy to be with you right now, do you feel used?”

 

“Mr Anderson, how do you feel working for your lover? Who wears the trousers in this relationship?”

 

Blaine halts, his hand pausing just before he reaches out to pull open the back door of Sam’s car and turns around on the spot. His face a mask or fury and irritation, his eyes brows drawn tight and his brow wrinkled as he tries to even his breathing through his tightly pressed lips. 

 

He’s usually so good, so mature and professional and able to block all of this shit out. 

 

But today they’ve went a step too far, and today of all days, of all weeks. Not good.

 

Blaine opens his mouth, takes a half step forward but before he can go any further, the Lexus’s driver door swings open and Sam lurches out, placing himself in the middle of Blaine and the onslaught of photographers and interviewers.

 

“In the car now, Blaine.” 

 

Sam’s eyes are locked on to his, his body language sturdy and daring anybody to try and move him. Sam points to the car again and gives Blaine’s shoulder a gentle prod until Blaine slowly backs away, spinning around and clambers into the back of the car. 

 

Confident that Blaine is safely inside, Sam gives a dark look over his shoulder to anybody who is paying him attention. “No comments. Good day.” 

 

He gets into the car and drives them away, back to the condo, in a deadly silence. 

 

*

 

“After I had spoken to you I caught a glimpse of a video that had been posted on Twitter of him being hounded as he left the meeting- not exactly what I wanted to see. Is he ok?”

 

Kurt’s shrill voice can be heard, carried down from the elevator shaft even from where Blaine is, down in the gym, pounding into a punch bag like it’s his job.

 

The elevator arrives to the basement with a beep and the doors slide open revealing a worried looking Kurt hurrying into the gym lobby as Sam scrambles after him, trying to reassure him. 

 

“He’s alright Kurt, honestly, he’s just working off some steam. I didn’t want to leave him completely alone, so I stayed up there until you got back. That’s why I called you, I’m sorry that you had to catch a cab back-”

 

Kurt stood in the clear glass doorway of the gym’s entrance, his narrowed gaze transfixed ahead to where the sounds of huffs and puffs and grunts of exertion can be heard, along with the quick powerful slap of rubber and plastic. 

 

“Don’t Sam, its fine. You did the right thing. You can go now, take a break. Thank you, I’ll call you later.” Kurt’s voice is quiet, his eyes never leaving the sight in front of him as Sam simply nods and backs away back into the elevator.

 

Kurt quietly steps forward. He slips off his jacket, unknots his tie and pulls it from around his neck. He then slips open the top two buttons of his shirt collar and sleeves and rolls them up to just below his elbows. 

 

It’s warm down here anyway, but the temperature mixed with the thick atmosphere rolling with tension and heat- is almost too much. Lastly Kurt takes off his socks and shoes and leaves everything by a chair in the corner, before tentatively approaching the back of the gym.

 

He can feel the radiation and heat and pure need rolling off of Blaine. He’s pretty certain of how this is going to end up.

 

Blaine continues to give the punch bag everything he’s got, he can see Kurt out of the corner of his eye, could hear snippets of his and Sam’s conversation and heard the catch of the elevator doors as Sam left.

 

Tiny pebbles of sweat drip down his face from his temples, and gather in the hollow of his throat and the nape of his neck. His sweat soaked black tank top clings to the rippled muscles in his chest and stomach as he pounds, pounds, pounds. 

 

He feels it when Kurt is standing just behind him, he can sense the warmth radiating from him even though Blaine’s body is soaked and pelting with heat. 

 

Blaine pauses before he can make another punch, and then hangs his head, catching his breath with his eyes screwed shut.

 

Kurt’s breath on the back of his neck is warm and oddly reassuring. He wraps his arms around Blaine’s waist and starts tearing back the velcro from the straps of the boxing gloves around his wrists. 

 

Blaine stands still and quiet, his head still bowed as he calms down, his breathing evening out, allowing Kurt to take the gloves off his hands and drop them to floor with a soft thud.

 

Kurt’s fingers are a little cool against Blaine’s stomach, he shivers delightfully at the feel of Kurt peeling off his tank top from the hem, up over his chest. He reaches up, stretching out his arms, allowing Kurt to lift the clingy fabric up over his head and again back down on to the floor, joining the gloves.

 

He turns around in Kurt arms and Kurt doesn’t step back, they’re practically nose to nose. Kurt’s eyes are an icy blue with shards of green and grey piercing through like clouded glass. The intensity is almost too much and still not enough, they’re not close enough even though Blaine can feel Kurt’s soft puffs of breath against his cheeks.

 

Blaine lets his eyes slide closed once more for a moment, he just needs one last small moment to calm and collect and just feel.

 

And then he feels Kurt’s lips, slowly and softly press against his mouth, warm and wet. And suddenly everything dissolves, the anger and frustration dissipates and melts away and Kurt presses in closer and tighter. 

 

Blaine lets this continue for a few seconds longer, it’s slow and intimate and strangely passionate. Just them and the sounds of their breathing and the brush of wet flesh on flesh, they breathe through their noses and then Blaine opens his lips and allows Kurt to have at him. 

 

And Kurt does. 

 

The kiss turns frantic within moments, tongues and teeth and rough slick gasps. Kurt rips his mouth away and starts trailing open mouthed kisses down Blaine’s jaw and neck, he teases the bump of his Adam’s apple and the dip of his throat and then nibbles along his collarbone. Lower and lower still, hot and fierce and perfect.

 

Blaine messily kicks off his sneakers, shoving them out of the way with a slide of his foot and then starts on the knot of the cord-ties on his boxing shorts. Kurt drops to his knees, kissing feverishly down Blaine’s ribcage, his abs and stomach whilst he offers his hands and assists Blaine with pushing his shorts down over his thighs.

 

Blaine almost laughs at the harsh, delicious gasp that Kurt makes when he realises Blaine had left underwear out of the equation, when changing into his gym gear.

 

Blaine springs free from behind the waistband of his shorts, all hard and beautifully dark pink and straining, already so eager. Kurt licks his lips and wastes no time in taking him hard and tight in one fist and tonguing over Blaine’s slightly leaking slit before sliding completely down, his lips a gorgeous wet friction around Blaine’s shaft. 

 

Blaine groans, eyes clenching and stumbles back a fraction before Kurt places his free hand around the back of his thigh and grips tightly to keep him still and balanced. Blaine cards his fingers into Kurt’s hair and clings on for dear life, as he looks down, watching Kurt who looks like he’s going to eat him alive. 

 

Kurt moves his hand lower and teases Blaine balls with his fingers as he hollows his throat and takes Blaine deeper with each dip and bob, his humming sends the most fantastic vibrations through Blaine’s dick and up and around his body.

 

“K-Kurt, Kurt honey stop.” Blaine’s words are barely audible, breathless and rasped as he tries to pull Kurt up and off from around him. Kurt pulls off, and looks up at him questionably, a smirk teasing the edges of his lips. His eyes are big and round and glazed and too fucking gorgeous. “You need to stop or I’m going to come.”

 

Kurt bites his bottom lip. “And that’s a problem?”

 

Blaine kicks off and out of his shorts completely and drops to his knees in front of Kurt, his cock hard and aching and darkly flushed bobs against his stomach as he lands. He immediately starts tearing at Kurt’s shirt buttons, ignoring the gentle swats as Kurt tries to stop him from doing the fabric any real damage. 

 

Kurt’s shirt hits the floor and before Blaine reaches down for the fly of his trousers, like Kurt expects him too, he takes Kurt’s face in his hands and kisses him deep and rough, like his life depends on it. Blaine’s eyes simmer.

 

“I want to come inside of you.” Kurt shivers, barely containing a moan as he nods frantically, moving back in for another kiss.

 

“God, yes. Please”

 

Blaine gently lowers him down to the tile below before thinking better of it and lifts him up to a nearby softly padded weight bench, still not entirely comfortable but desperate times call for desperate measures.

 

Kurt unbuckles his pants and slides them down his hips along with his underwear in one quick, fluid motion, and in record time. 

 

Blaine grips on to his hips and pulls him up and close so that his ass is half hanging off the edge of the bench, and then flips him over on to his stomach. Kurt groans at the friction of his dick trapped between his body and the rubbery feel of the bench padding. He clings to each side of the bench, his knuckles fading white and cries out when Blaine’s spreads him open with his hands and starts mercilessly lapping at his asshole.

 

Blaine licks at him again and again and when Kurt is writhing and crying out for more as his hole puckers and clenches wetly, he adds a finger- and then another. In and out, in and out, relentless. 

 

They’re both hard, too hard, close to bursting, Kurt lifts his head and looks over his shoulder back at Blaine, his eyes glazed and cheeks flushed and says, “Take me now Blaine. I’m ready, fuck me. Take me like you need to.” 

 

Blaine knows not to wait. 

 

He spits on his palm and wraps it around his cock, rubbing up and down a few times before driving his hips forward and lining himself up to Kurt’s entrance. 

 

The angle is a little low and awkward and Blaine has to bend his knees and lower his hips some but he does it. Kurt looks utterly delectable spread out for him like this, with his thighs split and long lean powerful legs draped over either side of the bench, and Blaine needs him, he needs this like air, this release.

 

Slowly and carefully he guides himself in, pushing in with tiny thrusts as he feels Kurt clench and pull around him, adjusting and accommodating. 

 

After a short pause for a breather, Blaine pulls up Kurt’s hips flush to his, bottoming out fully and then they set their rhythm. And Blaine fucks him with gusto.

 

“Yes, yes, oh god yes.” Kurt cries out, his face smushed down into the padding as he pushes back with each thrust. Blaine alternates between grinding and swerving his hips and then pounding back in again with force.

 

The friction is delicious but Blaine’s not worried about hurting Kurt, they know each other’s limits by now, they trust each other to speak out when necessary, they can feel in each other when they need more of something and less of something else.

 

Blaine has never fucked like this before, he can’t remember a time when this deep primal need has ever overtaken him before, since before meeting Kurt, he’s never wanted to take somebody and let somebody take him as he does with Kurt.

 

It’s not often that Kurt bottoms either, its not that he doesn’t like it, or that there is any sort of preference, it’s just the way that it usually works out. But Blaine needs this, he needs Kurt. And Kurt knows it. 

 

He doesn’t want to punish Kurt, it’s not his fault, all of this, this crap from the outside world. Blaine knows that, he knows what he signed up for. He just needs to reinstate his position with their relationship, make self feel more than just Kurt’s lowly assistant.

 

“Oh Kurt- Jesus. So good, sweetheart, so tight. Fuck. Need this. Need you.”

 

Blaine can feel when Kurt is about to lose it, his ass starts spasm-ing around him drastically and Blaine ruts further and deeper, knowing that the constant pushing and pulling on Kurt’s trapped dick below them, mixed with the nudge of his cock against his prostate will be enough friction to get him off just right. Kurt’s voice drops an active and it’s entirely too sexy. 

 

“C-coming, Blaine I’m coming. Fuck me, yes like that-there there-” 

 

Kurt’s whole body trembles as he comes violently with a low grunt and a groan, spilling and spreading sticky warmth between himself and the bench. A little of the stuff slips out from underneath him and drips down to the floor.

 

The sight alone sends Blaine spiralling to his climax and he comes with an almost growl, his fingers tightening around Kurt’s hips as he stutters out of rhythm and then fills him, deep and wet and fierce.

 

Blaine flops down on top of Kurt when he’s done, his thighs giving out completely, muscles bulging and trembling as he pants into the soft damp skin of Kurt’s back, leaving little kisses anywhere he can when he musters up the energy.

 

Blaine trails his nose between Kurt’s shoulder blades, smiling at the slight tremor that runs through Kurt’s body when he places sticky open mouthed kisses in a tantalizing line up to his neck and back again as he slowly starts to pull out.

 

The clean up is messy, very messy and really they should have thought about this before hand- but to hell with it. Blaine uses his discarded tank top to help wipe away most of the mess on Kurt and the bench and the floor, he then helps him to pull on his underwear and buttons up his pants and then Blaine tugs on his shorts.

 

Kurt gets a bottle of water from a refrigerator by the refreshments bar and comes to join Blaine who has slumped down against the floor to ceiling mirror. They sit side by side, with their bare backs pressed up against the cool glass of the mirror, taking turns at gulping from the water bottle and catching their breaths.

 

“You wanna talk about it?” Kurt says after some time, he’s not looking directly at Blaine but his eyes are half lidded, with his head slumped back tilted to the side against the mirror, his hair a glorious mess, stuck up in all directions.

 

Kurt wiggles the fingers of his hand which is resting on his thigh closest to Blaine, they brush against Blaine’s hand, and in turn Blaine opens his palm and curls Kurt’s fingers in with his own. 

 

“No.” Blaine says quietly after some time. And then they both laugh as if reading each other’s thoughts. This is so like them, this is their thing that they do, to not want to talk about the things that they know they should. 

 

“I’m worried about yo-”

 

“Don’t be.” Blaine cuts him off softly and turns his face so that he’s looking at Kurt’s striking side profile. “Please, you don’t have to worry about me, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I made a big deal out of it. It’s-it’s just-”

 

Kurt turns his body inwards, their eyes catch as their bare shoulders push and rub together. Blaine thinks that Kurt looks so unfairly lovely, mostly nude and sated, sweat cooling on his creamy skin under the fluorescent ceiling spotlights. 

 

“I know. It’s been a lot, everything- this whole new line, I’ve kind of forced you out on a limb here, and I’m sorry for that, but I appreciate everything you’ve been doing.”

 

“You pay me for it Kurt.” Blaine says with a half smile, trying to lighten the mood and rubbing his thumb over the back of Kurt’s hand. 

 

Kurt shakes his head. “I don’t pay you to put up with what those assholes were saying to you out there.”

 

“You’ve prepared me for it. I knew what to expect, even before we became a ‘we’.” They both smile and lean in for a kiss at the same time. There’s not a great deal that can be said, they both know this.

 

“Hey I want you to know,” Kurt starts as he pulls back and searches Blaine’s dark liquid eyes. “That on opening night, you’re not just going to be there working as my assistant or whatever-”

 

Blaine swallows, eyes widening, unsure of what Kurt is going to say. “You’re going to be there working doing you own thing.”

 

Huh. 

 

Kurt smiles at the questionable look on Blaine’s face. “I want you to provide the music. Be the house band or solo artist or whatever. Hire whatever and whoever you want. This is your shout, everything is at your control.”

 

“Wh-what?” Blaine starts scrambling up to his feet and Kurt follows him up, his eyes following his every move, unwilling to break eye contact. 

 

“You know what I mean, what I want. Come on please Blaine, do this for me.” Blaine can’t resist denying Kurt anything not when he’s looking at him with those crystal clear pleading eyes, and that thoroughly fucked out look about him. And Kurt knows this too. 

 

“You want me to play, to perform at-”

 

“At the Mr and Mr opening event yes.” Kurt says resolutely. “You will be headlining. You can do everything as you so wish and please, and everybody will know about it. This is your thing. Yours.” 

 

“But-but Kurt-I- this is your night, your-” Kurt takes hold of Blaine’s hands tightly.

 

“I’ve had many nights previously and no doubt many more. But I want this with you. Please. You can do this, you can.” 

 

Kurt drops his voice to a low murmur, leans in and brushes his lips against Blaine’s cheek, their bare chests fitting together snugly. 

 

“I want you. I need you to do this with me, please.”

 

How can Blaine ever say no to that? 

 

Blaine doesn’t answer, he can’t. He can’t find the words to rise up in his dry throat, he thinks he’s even forgotten how to move as Kurt tangles his fingers around his neck, pulls him close and kisses him again and again.

 

Kurt knows his answer, he knows that he’s won. 

 

They kiss and kiss, and before they can get around to round two Kurt starts tugging Blaine towards his discarded pile of clothes near the elevator.

 

Blaine smiles as he helps him pick up some of his stuff. “Prepared were you?”

Kurt grins. “Hush you.” 

 

Blaine calls for the elevator, smiling as he feels the tension flow from him, sanity and normality returning.

 

“Hey,” Kurt crowds over him suddenly, his eyes filling with concern. “You aren’t- those guys haven’t said-”

 

Blaine smiles, allowing himself to be held and then untangles his arms whilst balancing the collection of Kurt’s things enough to hold Kurt too. 

 

“I don’t listen to a damn word, anybody says about us.” 

 

The elevator arrives and the doors open, Kurt leans in close one last time, his eyes lighting up with something mischievous and daring. 

 

Kurt whispers around his lips, “Let’s show them.”


	4. Chapter 4

The morning of debut opening night of ‘Mr and Mr’ Blaine is sitting on the floor up against the wall where his bed used to be in his old bedroom of the condo. He’s been there ever since Kurt had left him entwined in their sleep warm sheets much earlier that morning, kissing him goodbye softly on each stretch of bare skin he could find before heading off to tonight’s venue for dress rehearsals and sound and lighting checks.

 

Blaine’s plans are supposed to consist of him spending the morning at the condo, going over some last minute tuning details and trying to chill the hell out-in the words of Santana.

 

Ever since Kurt had told him what he wanted him to do Blaine has spent the past week like a bat out of hell. Kurt had even given him some time off to just sit and practice and re-familiarize himself with his old favourite lyrics and notes. 

 

Kurt’s knows he’s nervous, but keeps reminding him that its good nerves, it’s to be expected and to feed off of it and turn it into excitement and adrenaline.

 

Blaine gets it, he does. He nods and shakes his head and offers a half smile, accepts kisses and praise and encouragement. He knows how much it means to Kurt to let him help, to let him push him. And Blaine wants it, this opportunity, still, after all this time. Doesn’t he? 

 

Does he still want the roar of the crowd singing back his own lyrics to him, the shows and the media and the touring? The touring. Does he want to fly around the country for months at a time, or even the world? What would Kurt do? What would he do without Kurt? Would Kurt go with him? 

 

Later Blaine has planned to join Kurt at the venue for a spot of lunch, maybes a quick make-out session to help with the nerves and then onwards to get prepped with the band. 

 

Blaine had eventually decided that he wouldn’t like to get up there alone tonight, even with a band of people he hadn’t met before, he knows that he would still prefer the atmosphere of the band playing off each other, riffing and free styling. 

 

It’s what makes it, more fun and cosy and less daunting, just a bunch guys and gals with their instruments, having some fun, no matter where they are. 

 

Blaine genuinely enjoyed holding auditions, and the whole process. He relaxed in to the role of advisor so much, he could relate to these people, knew what they needed to hear in order to keep them encouraged. It reminded him of back in the day when he was young and fresh and hopeful, new to the city with only a dream and a twinkle in his eye. Blaine was very careful when auditioning and picking out from the talented individuals of New York who came to see him that day. It was important to him to thank everyone for their time and dedication, to remind them that if they didn’t get a job or a part straight away, it only means that bigger and better things are waiting. 

 

In the end he decided on a Chinese girl with a mean set of pipes who is in her last year of college to help him with back up vocals. A guy in his early thirties with long strawberry blonde hair and a goatee who Blaine remembers seeing around you tube a lot, infamous for pretty much making a very decent drum kit out of anything he comes across. A set of twins, both transfer students from Italy and both very skilled when it comes to woodwind and string instruments. 

 

Blaine is playing the keyboard himself, he doesn’t think he could just get up there and sing, he needs the reassurance of something under his fingers to keep him steady. Lastly after unearthing a skill kept quiet he’s asked Sam if he’ll help out on guitar. Ok he has pretty much bribed Sam to play guitar for him, but if he was going to have to do this, then he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it alone.

 

Of course he wouldn’t be alone, he isn’t doing this alone, any of it. He’s doing it with Kurt, for Kurt, and Kurt will be there watching him, at the side of the stage or down at the front, with his beautiful smile and mesmerizing eyes. 

 

Although they’ve enjoyed jamming sessions together after hours- which has been awesome- Blaine knows no matter how many times he has tried, that Kurt won’t be joining him up on that stage, not tonight. 

 

Singing and performing-for and to the public- just isn’t Kurt’s thing anymore. But behind closed doors Blaine has made it very clear that his most favourite thing to do (aside from having Kurt naked and writhing against him) is sitting with him side by side at the piano, their fingers gliding together and their voices combining and melding together.

 

Right now Blaine is supposed to be going through some vocal warm ups, general breathing and voice training exercises, but he just can’t seem to move his hands away from his face, where he’s currently buried like a little mouse.

 

He shouldn’t be nervous, he shouldn’t be frightened, this is what he does, this is him. He knows how to do this, he can do this. Ok so it’s been a while, but you’d think he’d be chomping at the bit, ready to get back out there and make a crowd roar.

 

Right? 

 

Maybe it’s because Kurt isn’t here right now. He knows that it’s a little unhealthy how dependant he is on Kurt these days, but really who can blame him. What can you expect when you spend pretty much 24/7 with someone. Someone who has taught you so much, who has given you a new want for life, a someone who you have hopelessly and irreversibly fallen in love with.

 

Honestly some would say that it may be the other way around, that Kurt is the one dependant on Blaine and to a large extent they would be correct. Maybe they both depend on each other as much as they balance each other out, that is also true. 

 

Maybe Blaine should just stop over thinking this and get up off of the god damn floor.

 

He knows why Kurt isn’t here right now, he knows why he can’t be and Blaine completely understands. Of course he does, this is Kurt’s job, this is the first time in a long while Kurt has publicized something so cause worthy and great, and Kurt has told him on many occasions that it’s mostly down to him, because he has been Kurt’s muse.

 

Blaine is honoured, honoured and humbled and touched down to his core, and wishes Kurt all the luck in the world today, and hopes that things run perfectly smoothly for him- he does. 

 

He just wishes that his love was here too. He’s only human after all.

 

He breathes deeply, exhales, inhales and then exhales again. Repeat. He runs his fingers, through his waiting to be washed hair, scratches his scalp, presses at his closed eyelids 

 

Finally after a few extra moments Blaine is just about to haul himself up off of his ass and try and do something productive when the door suddenly flies open, slamming against the rubber stopper and Santana storms into the room.

 

She looks around the room, her long dark hair clearly yet to be styled falling around her shoulders, with minimal natural looking but striking make-up on her face. Her hands are perched on hips, her features stone like, like a first grade teacher clearly not in the mood to play ‘who glued my chair?’ She’s wearing black fitted trousers, folded at the ankles- something that Blaine would wear. A white crisp oversized shirt is half tucked in and half hanging out over the waist of her trousers, and in one of her balled up fists, she’s clutching onto a black silk untied bowtie.

 

Finally she sees him, sitting there in a heap on the floor. Their eyes lock onto each others and for a moment Blaine can see a flash of relief flooding through her as her eyes soften, and then she’s like a whirlwind of fury.

 

“Oh my god, don’t tell me that I’m here to babysit your ass. What are you doing?”

 

Blaine climbs to his feet, pulling out and away of Santana’s reach when she tries to grab his arm. “I was just- I’m just-”

 

“You’re just freaking out. That’s what you’re ‘just’ doing.” She says, giving him a once over, clearly checking out his coffee stained t-shirt and questionable sweat pants. 

 

“I- I am not- look you don’t have to babysit me, why are you here? Get back to rehearsals.”

 

Santana’s face softens a fraction, she takes Blaine’s wrist and pulls him down to the bed to sit beside her. 

 

Quietly she starts to speak. “I swear he hasn’t said anything, he hasn’t but I can just tell that he’s thinking about you, worried about you. His mind is totally somewhere else, and it needs to be there with those models wearing his name. But it’s not it’s with you, here, and he won’t admit it. So I thought I’d come back to check on you, he doesn’t know I’m here and honestly I’m glad that I did.”

 

Kurt.

 

Blaine feels his throat tighten and wet heat fill at the corner of his eyes. Kurt is thinking about him too, Kurt wants to be with him too. 

 

“Maybe I should come back with you then, you know be with him or something.”

 

Santana holds up a pointed finger.

 

“No what you need to do, is get your ass calm and clean and ready. Scrub up to the delectable standard that he needs to see right now, and when you’re all under control, that’s when you go and meet him. He can’t see you like this. He needs to see the strong, determined ever so able guy who he hired, who he knew he could rely on, and have at his side, through thick and thin.”

 

They stare at each other. Santana is right, Blaine knows that she is, but it’s obviously truth time and he needs to get this out, he needs to or will eat him up from inside out. The shame and the guilt churn in his gut, fluttering like butterflies. He swallows, takes a breath.

 

“He’s-he’s uh asking a lot of me you know Santana, it’s a big ask, on top of everything else that comes with working for him, being with him.” 

 

Santana looks a little perplexed. “What? He is doing this for you, he’s giving you a kick start, this will launch you right off in to so many directions, after the publicity that this night will have-”

 

“But what if I don’t want it?” Blaine bites his lip, unable to quite meet Santana’s eyes.

 

“What? Don’t want what? What are you talking about- I don’t get-” Santana starts to shake her head, and pinch the bridge of her nose, clearly on the brink of frustration.

 

“What if I don’t want it. You know, like IT, be that person anymore, that performer. What if that’s just not me anymore.” Blaine’s voice is quiet but steady.

 

Santana watches him quietly, her lips pursed. She turns inward with her knees bent up on the mattress, completely facing Blaine. “Have you told him this? Have you said all of this to Kurt?” 

 

Her voice is low and empathetic, her eyes glowing with warm and subtle understanding. This is one of the things that Blaine loves about Santana, he loves how she can go from worlds biggest bitch to friend of the year in less than two minutes flat. 

 

Blaine shakes his head, “No but I will. I’m not lying or hiding anything from him, I promise. It’s just I don’t want to let him down, he wanted so bad for me to do this, to help me and for me to do this with him and I just-”

 

“Hey,” Santana places a hand on his shoulder, “What is it? Come on, its truth time remember?” She smirks a little and Blaine can feel just a tiny but of weight lifting off of his shoulders.

 

Why has he bottled this up? Maybe it’s taken all of this time until now to come to the right realization. 

 

“He-he told me that it’s ok to want different things, I remember so vividly him telling me that more than one thing at a time, more than one dream is ok,” He pauses and Santana nods. “Well it’s just, I feel like- dreams change you know?”

 

Santana nods and says, “Blaine what exactly are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying that I don’t think I want to perform anymore, not like how Kurt thinks I want to anyway, it’s just not me anymore. I love music, love it, love playing and the feel of the keys under my fingers or a guitar in my hands, but just- just maybe not so upfront you know, not so…-”

 

“Public?” Santana offers.

 

Public is that the word? Maybe so. “Yeah, I guess.” Blaine takes a deep breath. “It pains me to see what Kurt goes through day to day just by living out his dreams and trying to please a million and one people. I don’t want that for myself. I don’t want to be in a position where I’m so vulnerable and easily able to become detached from myself and from Kurt.” 

 

“Damn, this lifestyle has really rubbed off on you huh short stuff?” Santana snorts, like she’s placating a small child, smiling when she tries to tickle his chin and Blaine bats her away. Blaine just shrugs and nods, clearly tormented.

 

“Let me ask you something though, you are doing this for you right? Not for Kurt, not because of how his life may have interfered with yours?” 

 

Blaine worries his lip between his teeth. “I’m not going to lie, Kurt does have something to do with this. Of course he does, but not in a bad way. Kurt has opened my eyes, he’s made me feel like I can breathe right, like I can breathe under water. Look at how he has turned his life around, I bet you guys back in high school never thought he’d be a hugely successful, talented entrepreneur right?”

 

Santana bows her head for a second in thought. “You’re right I didn’t. I thought he’d be something, the kid could sing us all to shame and I thought for sure that we’d see him lighting up the stage like that god awful Berry girl we used to know, but I didn’t think he would be… this you know?”

 

Blaine nods, “But he’s happy now yes? Even though his path has changed, even though it’s different?”

 

Santana tilts her head to the side, smirking slightly, knowing where this is going. “He’s happy now because of you. He feels like he can get on and go further with you by his side, you’re like magic prince gay.” She winks.

 

“Well he’s like my magic too San. And I want to change my path as well, I want to redirect my love for music to some place else, like he did, with fashion.”

 

“So you wanna become rich and famous and have your own musical empire? You want me to just clone you into Kurt or?” She smirks and pulls back as Blaine reaches forward to try and push her down playfully to the mattress. She holds her hands up in defeat, her face clearly saying ‘I’m kidding.’

 

“I’m not copying him Santana. I don’t want the rich and fame, I don’t, god knows that I can’t even handle what I have to go through now just as Kurt’s assistant. But I do still want to help and change people, through-through music you know. Like I could assist or even manage some kind of production or label or something.” 

 

“You seem to have this all planned out. We should just call you Bono.” Santana teases but her eyes are soft and warm and her smile is friendly. She’s genuinely impressed and happy for Blaine, proud of him for knowing and being brave enough to go after what he wants.

 

Blaine nods slowly, “I guess I do… now, but I didn’t, not until I’ve just said it all out loud.” 

 

Santana nods, and a comfortable silence falls over them. They can almost hear each other thinking. 

 

“Will you do something?” Santana asks after s while, her voice is so soft and quiet, eyes gentle and sort of…pleading. Blaine nods, heading tilting to the side in question. Santana continues. “If not for me, then definitely for Kurt and especially for yourself, because I think you owe yourself this one last shot.”

 

Blaine grins. “You want me to still play tonight?” 

 

“Yes I do, I think that you should-”

 

“Tana,” Blaine cuts her off, almost laughing. “Of course I’m going to still perform tonight. I was never not going to, I wouldn’t do that to Kurt, not ever. Yes putting myself first every now and then is important, but Kurt will always be and will always remain my first priority. I just, I just needed to-”

 

“Get your shit together, I know. Calm down Romeo. We all know how much you love Lady Hummel.” Santana says, standing up and smirking.

 

“Yeah, something like that. I’ll tell him after the show, when everything dies down. Maybe in a few days.” Blaine smiles, following her.

 

Santana heads towards the door calmly, smoothing down her mismatched outfit. She pauses in the door way and spins around. “So you know what you gotta do right, you’re all set?” 

 

Blaine breathes in, chest puffing out and nods. For the first time this week, he feels confident, he feels sure and almost like he’s landing back on his feet after a busy, stressful few weeks.

 

Santana nods, satisfied. “Ok Mr I know what I Want-” Blaine rolls his eyes. “If this is going to be your first in a long time plus the last show in front of a crowd, you better go out with a bang huh? A big one.” 

 

Blaine’s grin is too infectious for Santana not to copy. It really does feel like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. 

 

“Oh I plan to.” Santana giggles, waves and then leaves, the sounds of her heels echoing against the flooring in the distance. 

 

This- what he’s about to do tonight- may not be Blaine’s ultimate dream anymore but if there’s anything he absolutely does know how to do and how to do it spectacularly well- it’s putting on a show.

 

Especially for Kurt.

 

*

 

The spotlights are hot and bright, but not too much to take, the feeling sinks into Blaine’s skin, melts into his pores as he lets the rush take over. Beads of sweat dribble down the sides of his head, from his forehead to temple.

 

His eyes crinkle at the corners so that he’s almost squinting as he grins his way through the lyrics. He sways his hips and ass when he’s not required to sit down at the keyboard stool. He taps his foot perfectly in rhythm to the beat of each song whenever he’s seated, bobbing his head happily. 

 

He curls his sweaty palms around the mic during the keyboard breaks when he can give his fingers a break, he presses his lips to the cool metal feel of the mic head as he sings each word with heart and soul and conviction. 

 

It all came back to him from the very moment he stepped onto the little platform, built especially for him and his band and their instruments. The sudden feel, the urge to perform and entice a raucous reception from his audience.

 

A couple of glances backwards to Sam behind him, with swept up spiky hair, a tight t-shirt and dark denim, lapping it up on the guitar- confirm the feeling of sheer, unadulterated fun. 

 

No matter what he had felt beforehand or how he feels about performing again after this night, Blaine knows that he’ll never forget this night. This last night of lapping up the smiles and the cheers, blinking from the camera flashes and checking his earpiece when he can feel the base vibrate loudly through his very bones. 

 

He doesn’t regret his choice, or his words he said to Santana. No what he said and what he has decided are both heartfelt and the utmost truth, but he’s glad that he still has tonight. This one last thrill.

 

And if that’s not enough to send Blaine to his own personal version of cloud 9, there is also the look on Kurt’s face as he watches every single movement that Blaine makes.

 

After ‘pulling his shit together’ as Santana had so kindly put it, Blaine finally made it to the venue early afternoon and met up with Kurt, who looking nothing less than frantic and harassed and about one slip up away from calling the whole thing off.

 

How could Blaine have left him to deal with this alone tonight? Never. 

 

They barely had time to interact, with Blaine being rigged up for tech and sound checks and Kurt being radioed backstage for a ‘situation’. But the little contact that they had managed to sneak from each other before the show was enough. A lingering stare, a longing kiss filled with hope and promise, a quick naughty grope behind the curtain.

 

Secretly Blaine was actually a little glad that they hadn’t had time to talk, it all builds up to the suspense and the anticipation of what’s to come later, and then later still back at home. 

 

Kurt had never taken his eyes off of Blaine from the moment he returned from the backstage dressing room and stepped on stage to the sound of generous and eager applause. Kurt had been watching from the opposite side of the stage that Blaine had entered from, but after taking one look at him he quickly moved behind the curtain, through the stage door and out front, where he took his prideful place front and center.

 

He needed every viewable angle of Blaine possible. And firmly standing in position whilst being jerked this way and that by other guests clearly enjoying the music- was his best option. 

 

Santana grinded up against his other side, a cocktail glass in both hands, and –thankfully- changed into her own sinfully revealing ‘little black dress’ and stilettos. Santana had rocked the show, to an epic proportion. She was Kurt’s feature model as the only female of the group, wearing adjusted and accessorized garments from his men’s range, to cause that little bit extra flare. Both boys were proud of her, very much so, and hopefully this event would lead her onwards and upwards. 

 

Whatever came of the night Santana would always be just Santana, only doing what her suited her, as and when she pleased. 

 

Blaine’s stage outfit was what they had both agreed on-one of Kurt’s newest suits, designed and fitted perfectly and uniquely for him. A light weight material that would help with the heat, a dark shirt rolled to his elbows, unbuttoned at the collar and a pair of matching pants, showing a slither of ankle with gorgeous French canvas boat shoes.

 

Only Blaine had added his own little secret subtle touches. Starting with his hair, completely seemingly product free with his short curls springing sexily in every which way. The way he looked brushing it back from his forehead or scraping his fingers back and through with his eyes closed, whilst he sang his heart out was enough to send Kurt looking for a cold shower.

 

He hadn’t shaven-at all that day, with a tantalizing scruff of dark fuzz lining his jaw and upper lip.

 

He had unbuttoned his shirt buttons almost down to his navel to form a perfectly shaped ‘V’ like wedge, with a teasing patch of dark chest hair peeking out.

 

Kurt’s eyes are deep, dark and intense. His gaze unwavering as his dilated pupils flick and flitter after Blaine around the stage. Kurt has seen the videos on the internet, but he had never seen this, this Blaine.

 

He’s careful to show any overly expression emotion save for the one of pure pride and joy. Yes he and Blaine are official and out, and everybody here at this event should know that, but still, they still are fairly new and raw and Kurt is a professional, a professional who loves his boyfriend enough to show some respect and decency around strangers, strangers with cameras no less.

 

They were careful with the press release of the event, and who to send the invites out to, especially with Blaine’s little episode with the press not long ago. Of course there would be pictures and videos popping up on all varieties of social media sites with in the next hour or even less, this was to be expected, and they weren’t going to hide who they were, or their love for each other. 

 

But it was important to Kurt that Blaine be respected tonight as his own person, that was his aim, his private goal, aside from the line and the money and the charity. He wanted Blaine to get the credibility he deserved, and not just seen as Kurt’s other half. 

 

They had even made separate official appearances for the press and the waiting crowd outside of the marquee, on a dazzling dove grey carpet flecked with gold and silver. 

 

Kurt believed that their love was sacred, private and special and theirs. And their relationship both personal and professional deserved more than being shown to an array of cameras with zoomed in lenses. They already had to deal with that on a daily basis, they didn’t want to add tonight to that list. 

 

Especially on this night, this night was for the good of the cause, and they refused to take limelight away from it. 

 

There is going to be more than likely more than one occasion in the future that they’re caught in a passionate lip lock or a suggestive manner, but tonight wasn’t going to be it. 

 

But damn, was Blaine making it hard for Kurt to not stake his claim.

 

*

 

Some time later, Blaine finishes his set and exits the stage to a wail of applause and cheers, cries for more and cat calls. 

 

The house lights come up, indicating that its dinner time and all of the guests start filtering away from the stage and to their allocated tables. Waiters swarm the marquee with silver platters and iced buckets of champagne and soon the whole place is rearranged for the last part of the night, drinking and dancing.

 

Chatter and laughter and soft house music filters up into the air and can be heard from behind the runway turned stage, where the backstage staff are flying around folding away costumes and unpinning various garments. 

 

Overall the whole night had been a complete success, there had already been talk of an annual occurrence and the night wasn’t even over yet. Kurt’s clothes and the models that worked them up and down the runway were the new talk of the town in a matter of moment after seeing them, thanks to high speed quality internet connections.  
A lot of money and awareness had been raised, Kurt had yet again been given unique recognition and everything had gone swimmingly with next to no hiccups. 

 

Backstage in his small dressing room away from the hustle and bustle of the other models, Blaine slumps behind the closed door, eyes clenched shut, finally huffing out a sigh of relief, mixed with exhaustion, mixed with utter joy and delight. 

 

He starts giggling, and rubs at his sweaty curls with one hand, undoing the rest of the buttons of his shirt with his other. “Something funny?”

 

Blaine’s eyes fly open to see Kurt, leaning against his dressing table. Dressed impeccably in his third suit of the night, designed to match Blaine’s last planned outfit of the evening. His cheeks are a little flushed and there’s a glint in his eyes, like pools of aqua dotted with crystals, and his smile is so bright and beautiful that it almost hurts to look at. 

 

Blaine stops laughing but can’t wipe the grin from his face, as his eyes roam all over Kurt’s body. He cant even think of what to say to him, his head so far off on another planet right now, currently riding a high. So he just continues to stand their grinning at him, his eyes shining with a deep need and hunger and ultimately just plain happiness.

 

“Let me help you with that.” Kurt says when it’s clear Blaine isn’t up to vocalising just yet, eyeing Blaine’s hands working at his buttons. His voice is deep and husky, laced with something that makes Blaine’s skin tingle. They both can’t stop smiling. 

 

Kurt steps towards him as Blaine pushes himself up and away from the door, they meet in the middle of the room, their chests brushing, thighs pressed together.

 

Blaine rests his head in the crook of Kurt’s neck, inhaling deeply as Kurt undoes the last few buttons of his shirt and slips the material from his shoulders, running his fingers over his arms and chest and stomach appreciatively as he pushes it off. 

 

His hands come to the rest on Blaine’s belt buckle and Blaine groans into his neck, mouthing lightly up and over his jaw line until he reaches his lips.

 

“You were amazing tonight.” Blaine whispers against Kurt’s mouth, teasing little licks and slides and brushes in between words. Kurt moans and kisses back hard and eager.

 

“Are you kidding? Did you see yourself up there tonight? You were like a rock star!” Kurt can’t help but smile into the next kiss, but as Blaine pulls back just slightly to look into his eyes he catches something else there. Something vaguely familiar and it fills him with an unexplainable sense of relief. 

 

Blaine’s stomach dips, as he thinks about his earlier conversation with Santana and the one still impending with Kurt. 

 

“Hey, come back to me.” Kurt whispers, ducking to meet Blaine’s gaze as he starts staring off unfocused into space. “It’s ok, I know, and I get it, and I don’t want you to think about it tonight ok. I just want you to know how proud I am of you that you went out there tonight and owned that stage.”

 

“B-but Kurt, what-” Blaine starts shaking his head, almost dizzy with confusion. Kurt smiles and stills him with a kiss. He keeps them close with his arms wrapped around Blaine’s bare upper body, shimmering with the remnants of sweat. Blaine smells and looks glorious, pure rugged man, scented with cologne and clean sweat.

 

“It’s ok I know.” He says quietly. Blaine feels himself pale. 

 

“You-you know? Santana? She-”

 

“Santana hasn’t had to say anything. I know you Blaine. I know you a lot better than you think. This has been eating you up inside and I wish you had have just come to me but-”

 

“I did it for you.” Blaine finishes, winding his arms up around Kurt’s neck, kissing his jaw and Kurt leans down and kissed Blaine’s forehead. The quiet intimacy between them is almost too much.

 

“I know you did. Thank you.” And Blaine can see the sincerity, the honesty and the gratefulness pooling deep in Kurt’s clouded eyes. 

 

They could say a thousand things to each other right now but they both know that they don’t have to, this is enough, this is them. 

 

“So what’s next?” Blaine mouths against Kurt’s cheek, whilst very slowly starting to rub himself up and down Kurt’s thigh. He knows that they have a room full of guests and other things to attend to behind these walls. 

 

That and the fact that Santana will predictably worm her way in here in any given moment, but he just can’t stop this need, this deep urge and un-watered down love and bliss he’s feeling right now. 

 

“Next tonight? Next tomorrow? Next week?” Kurt rubs back, gasping deliciously.

 

“The next step, for me, for us?” 

 

Kurt stills them and their eyes meet. Kurt’s hold tightens almost fiercely, his gaze boring down into Blaine’s that it almost leaves him both breathless and wanting to tear the remainder of his clothes off. 

 

“Everything. Everything is next for us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Sorry it’s been a while, been feeling a little lost. Reviews please? They really help. Thanks for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Thank you for the love, it is always so warmly appreciated and you make me smile and want to continue to write until my fingers fall off : )
> 
> Here is some fluff, some heart warming convos and generally our boys being their normal selves and helping to push the plot further. Enjoy : )

Whenever Kurt had very briefly and non descriptively mentioned his UK holiday home, Blaine had always imagined it in a very certain way. 

 

Like for example, a quaint idyllic cottage hidden amongst trees and pines cones, in the middle of a southern countryside on the outskirts of London. It would have one bedroom with an adjoining bathroom and a tub hardly big enough for one person. They would cook in a tiny kitchen with a scratched oak dining table and a real log fire crackling away on an old dusty hearth. Two pairs of muddy boots would be leaning up against each other by the old heavy front door, ready to slide back into to go for their daily evening winter walk. A pitiful looking real Christmas tree sagging over in a small compost pot, due to the heavy weighted glass ornaments. 

 

That sort of thing. 

 

It’s not because of money or anything of the like, god knows that Kurt is wealthy enough to own a whole forest full of log cabins. It’s just the way that Blaine pictures it in his head, when he thinks about it. Like that place in that movie, the one when they swap homes over the holidays, one in England and one in the states. 

 

He also for some reason always imagines it during the winter, with its gravelled yard painted with snow and frost. Kurt would make mulled wine on the burner and some old black and white movie would be showing on a fuzzy old TV with a battered unit.

 

The decision to visit the holiday home had been one made rather swiftly and surprisingly mutually. As always it was like Kurt had managed to pluck the thoughts right out of Blaine’s head, and after a stressful week of upkeep after the new range’s launch night Kurt had surprised Blaine with the suggestion of taking some days off and getting away for a bit.

 

Word and pictures and many, many videos had spread of Blaine’s set at Kurt’s event, and between the two of them they couldn’t decide who was in more demand. Blaine had had to cancel some appointments and meetings from their diaries just because of last minute interviews that Kurt had been offered to help publicize the cause of the line. 

And of course wherever Kurt went, Blaine followed, naturally.

 

Blaine had allowed the manic haze of the week to pass, he answered questions, he ignored some, he smiled, he posed and he remained very honest and true to himself.

 

The gig was just a one off experience, because Kurt had asked him to do. He enjoyed it very much, and would consider doing something similar for Kurt and his campaigns and endeavours, however Blaine’s main focus now was to take a back seat from the spotlight and concentrate on what happens behind ‘the performance.’

 

And of course Kurt, Kurt is always a main focus, in more ways than one.

 

And so on the terms of ‘de-stressing’ a trip was booked, although the duration had been a question left open and though Blaine knew they were going to England, Kurt had remained very tight lipped about any other details. 

 

After hours of driving from the car rental place at the airport, when Blaine had lost track of the many winding roads and rolling hills, as dozens among dozens of trees flew past the window- Kurt finally slows the car to an almost stop and turns onto an almost invisible turn, leading up and through a secluded driveway.

 

Eventually they approach a spacious graveled parking area, next to a double garage with bright white electric doors. Kurt pulls up and parks right in front of a very large, like super large, detached beige and grey stone-brick building, with a brownish red tiled roof that seems to go on for miles. 

 

They get out the car silently, when Kurt looks over at him from the drivers side, grinning and pulling on the door handle. When Blaine follows him he notices that they’re surrounded by immaculately maintained flower bedded gardens, pebble stone pathways with a wooden decked patio area that Blaine can tell stretches right around the side of the house to the rear. 

 

Kurt opens up the trunk of the car, loading himself with bags, completely oblivious to Blaine standing there with his mouth hanging open, taking in the surroundings.

 

This isn’t a cottage, not even a house. This place is a mansion.

 

“It’s a converted Barn and old farmhouse.” Kurt says, interrupting his thoughts, as if reading his mind, like he somehow always seems to be able to do. “There are live cattle in the fields over there, so don’t expect to get too much sleep while we’re here.” He adds smiling, as he pops up from the trunk with their luggage, reaching up to close it. 

 

The front yard backs on to fields among of fields of lush greens and burnished golds, crops and corn and yellowy white fluffy lambs skipping after their mothers. With broad galloping horses whinnying and chasing each other in the distance, and cows mooing to one and other conversationally as they graze. 

 

Blaine opens up his lungs and inhales deeply, the rich smells of earth and grass, pollen and produce, thick unfiltered fresh country air filling him up from inside out. 

 

This place is amazing.

 

Blaine helps Kurt with the bags and follows him over to the large stone arched entry way, Kurt doesn’t reach for a key he just leans forward and pushes the door open, a rich mahogany wood with stained glass window panels.

 

There’s a note placed on a little side table in the entry hall by a fancy lamp. Kurt drops the bags by his feet- Blaine follows his lead- and picks up the note, reading it aloud, in a funny posh sort of accent.

 

“Mr Hummel, 

 

We’re so glad you’re back. Welcome.

 

I do hope that you will enjoy your stay here, and have found everything the way it had been left many years ago by your pristine effortless standards.  
My cleaning staff have whipped around, as quickly and efficiently as possible and taken care of most chores on your behalf (turned down the beds, restocked the kitchen etc… so RELAX.) 

 

I also hope that you find your requirements down in the basement substantial? I’m afraid that your requests were a little extravagant for such short notice, but where there’s a will, there’s a way.

 

You know where I am if you need anything. And John too of course, he sends his love and I’ll try and tell him to keep the tractor further down hill, you’ve came to here to get away from all of that city noise after all.

 

P.S Hello Mr Anderson, I look forward to meeting you one day, hopefully.

 

Warm regards,

 

Sandra… and John.”

 

Kurt smirks and folds the note back where it was, turning to Blaine who is smiling back. 

 

“Sandra is the farmer’s wife, such a sweet old couple, with not an ounce of fashion sense or any idea of who I am. I bought this place from them and converted it. They live down the lane and Sandra has helped me look after this place whenever I’m not here, which has been a long time.” 

 

“She knows about me?” Blaine decides to blurt out instead of all of the other sensible things and curious questions he could have chosen from. Kurt gives him a look, and then tries to redirect his shy smile somewhere else.

 

“Of course she does.” Kurt tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, and Blaine has the almighty urge to lunge forward and pull it back out with his own. 

 

And the best thing is, that he can. But the teasing sexual tension starting to simmer just below the surface is just too good to not keep playing at it for a short while longer.

 

Instead Blaine places his hands on his hips, whistles as he looks around. Kurt smiles at him amusingly, slowly stepping towards him. 

 

“What? Don’t tell me that you’re more impressed with this place than our home back in New York?”

 

Our home. Of course it’s their home, technically it has been from the beginning, but now it seems to have a new meaning. Hearing Kurt talk like that never fails to make Blaine melt and quiver deliciously. 

 

“Come on,” Blaine starts teasingly, “Look at this place, yes the condo is amazing, but Kurt, I’ve never been anywhere like this before. We’re in England. London baby.” 

 

Kurt laughs at Blaine’s terrible Austin Power’s impersonation and closes the gap between them, resting his hands on Blaine’s sides.

 

“Actually, we’re in North Yorkshire, Harrogate to be precise, in the North East part of England.” Kurt smiles at Blaine’s lost expression. “London is too ‘ordinary’ for me, I like to be different. And this place is beautiful.” 

 

“Of course you do, “Blaine laughs, “And you’re right it is beautiful here, there’s something almost other worldly about this place.”

 

Kurt sighs and looks around, finally his eyes landing back on Blaine’s face. “Yeah, I guess I forgot how much I love it here, I zoned out of how much I actually miss the place. Thank you, for coming with me, for giving me a reason to come back.”

 

Blaine smiles, wide and dazzling. “You don’t need to thank me silly, I should be thanking you-”

 

“Ok, we could do this over and over or I could give you the grand tour?” Kurt interrupts cheekily, his eyes twinkling. He stands back and gestures towards the staircase behind them, and the array of rooms surrounding it.

 

“Oh by all means, please do.” Blaine smiles and offers his hand, which Kurt takes in his own in a rather chivalrous playful manner and starts tugging him forward. 

 

For a moment Blaine thinks that Kurt is going to lean in and kiss him, his heart rate quickens and his eyelids flutter closed in anticipation. He can feel Kurt’s warm breath against his skin, sweet and scented of the coffee they had at the gas station during the car journey.

 

After a beat when Blaine doesn’t feel that gentle press of Kurt’s lips against his own, he opens his eyes to find Kurt close, so close, and grinning at him seductively. Oh, they’re still playing. 

 

“Let’s start with the upstairs shall we? Let’s be unconventional.” 

 

Blaine swallows, his eyes chasing Kurt’s lips and throat. “Let’s.”

 

They’re halfway up the stairs, Blaine trailing very closely behind Kurt, eyes fixed to his ass (of course,) and his hands glued to his own sides because reaching out and groping Kurt on the staircase could be dangerous, when Kurt feels a gentle prod in his back. He stops mid-step and turns to look down at Blaine over his shoulder, eyebrow raised in a ‘what?’ sort of fashion.

 

“You are too you know.” Blaine starts, soft and quiet, licking his lips, his eyes fixated on Kurt, his mind clearly somewhere beyond the here and now. “Beautiful. Inside and out. Just wanted you to know that.” He finishes quietly, peeking up at Kurt sheepishly through his eyelashes.

 

Kurt’s eyes clear up like crystals, shimmering with blue and gray. A beautiful blush spreads over his cheeks and then very slowly a magnificent smile starts to unfurl. It’s one of those smiles that Blaine likes to call hidden or private, reserved just for him, when it’s just the two of them.

 

And then Blaine is suddenly flying up the rest of steps, his hands tightly gripped between Kurt’s, and the gorgeous sounds of Kurt’s excited giggling filling his ears.

 

*

 

Some time later, whilst sporting similar rosy cheeks, half the amount of clothing they were wearing before hand and wild bed hair, Blaine finally gets the grand tour. 

 

The barn-house (as Blaine likes to call it) turns out to be a spacious, very spacious, four bedroom, three bathroom building with approximately four and half acres of land. 

 

“It’s situated in this idyllic location between Harrogate and Pateley Bridge, and was converted in approximately 1998.” Kurt had stated as if reading from a text book, whilst taking him in and out of each room. 

 

“I thought you converted it?” Blaine asks, genuinely interested. 

 

“I converted it into a new layout and modernized it with my own personal touch, but the foundations were already there.” Kurt grins, and Blaine can tell that this is something he’s genuinely proud of.

 

“You should consider property development.” Blaine jokes and Kurt lights up.

 

“There’s time yet dear.” He teases and Blaine just wants to drag him back into the bedroom (Master, one of many) and start all again. 

 

Blaine can’t get over the sheer size of the place, and the vast majority of rooms- a reception hall, entrance hall and cloakroom which houses the main staircase, a front lounge, a back lounge, a dining room, a family room with a pool table and darts board, a small study, an overly sized kitchen with state of the art appliances and a walk-in freezer and pantry, a separate laundry room, and lastly a summer house out the back.

 

Everything is furnished with both modern and old English traditional touches, the walls painted a neutral cream, the carpets to match and the tiles and wooden floor boards light and natural. 

 

Oddly Blaine suddenly imagines himself, in the future, many, many years ahead, rocking in one of the hand crafted wooden chairs in the back lounge whilst looking out of the French double doors, out into the meadows and rolling hills. 

 

He suddenly feels calmed and awakened, a little like he felt when he first met Kurt. It’s the kind of feeling that tell him he’s found something that he didn’t even know he was looking for. 

 

“Why don’t you just live here?” Blaine blurts out, whilst Kurt is straining a tea bag into a copper kettle in the kitchen. They stayed in here for a quick pit stop before continuing around the grounds. Blaine is seated at the island opposite, face in his hands as he stares at Kurt and listens to his little anecdotes about the place with a fierce look of fondness and desire in his eyes.

 

Kurt looks taken aback at the question at first but continues bobbing the teabag on the little string into the boiling hot water a few times before pulling it out, settling it on a little china dish and pouring the liquid into two mugs. 

“I um, I guess it was never an option really. Why do you ask?” He says, approaching the island with both mugs, sliding one over to Blaine and resting a hip against the counter’s edge. 

 

“How so? And because this place is amazing and tranquil and lovely, and I know the rough times you went through and this place is like a weekend spa/rehab facility.” 

 

Kurt giggles a little bit, and Blaine’s glad of the sound. He blows across the surface of his tea and says, “I guess I was just always too busy to leave New York, no matter what sort of funk I was in, that’s how so. Or I guess I thought I was.”

 

Blaine nods, sips from his mug. “Why did you buy it then? Why did you buy somewhere like this, so far away if you were too busy to actually come here?” 

 

“Stupidity, stubbornness, ego inflation, defiance… because you’re right, and this is so very far from everything else, and that I needed to know that I had an escape, even though I didn’t use it.”

 

Blaine doesn’t really know what to say, he knows how difficult that may have been for Kurt to open up about, so he doesn’t say anything, just nods his understanding, flashes a smile and raises his mug back up to his mouth. 

 

Kurt catches his wrist before he can do so and says, and almost whisper, “This place is awfully big for just one person, and even though I felt more alone in the company of a room full of others, I just knew that I couldn’t taint the feeling that this place gives with pain and regret and sadness. I knew I would enjoy coming here one day.”

 

With that Kurt quickly leans in and plants a loud wet kiss on Blaine’s mouth. Blaine’s lips chase Kurt’s for more before Kurt pulls away smiling triumphantly. 

 

“A-and were you right? Did you prove yourself right?” Blaine asks, his eyes slowly coming back into focus, his voice a little hoarse and rasped. Kurt swoops back in and kisses him breathless.

 

“What do you think?”

 

* 

 

The tour turns into an all day affair, with pit stops and trial outs and refreshment breaks in almost every part of the building and outside areas. By the time they make it outside, its late afternoon and they have with them a picnic blanket and small hamper of sandwiches, chips and chocolate covered biscuits, with flasks of tea and small cartons of orange juice. 

 

Blaine loves being out in the open air, non fumigated air from bright blue skies with birds chirping as opposed to car horns blaring and people yelling. With his bare toes curling into the cotton of the tartan patterned blanket next to his discarded shoes, and the feel of Kurt’s fingers carding through his hair as he lies with his head in his lap.

 

The warm yet still a little cool English sun pours down on them whilst they spend some time just enjoying the peace and quiet, in the middle of a grassy field with a gate connecting them to Kurt’s old/new barn. 

 

What would it be like for him, for them, to just do this, to be here everyday and not have to worry about getting in and out of a busy, over crowded city. What would it be like if they could work from here, if there was somewhere here in the depths of this enchanting new little world Kurt has introduced him to, where they can carry on? Carry on working and being together, in all ways, with no boundaries or worries or fears, just them at their own leisurely pace, doing what they what and when they want, with each other.

 

Kurt leans down and brushes his lips against Blaine’s forehead. “Mmm, great idea.” He says and Blaine frowns, momentarily panicked. Was he thinking aloud? “Coming here.” Kurt adds, noticing the confused expression on Blaine’s face. “It was a great idea coming here, I hope this becomes a habit.” 

 

Blaine nods, smiles sheepishly, accepts another kiss and then settles back down into the warmth of Kurt’s stomach and thighs.

 

One day, he thinks. Maybe one day. Hopfully.

 

* 

 

As the tour of the house grows to a close and they head back inside, Kurt pulls Blaine back into one of the reception rooms and over to a downward leading staircase in the corner. It’s almost hidden, blending into the room with cozy carpeted flooring and cream painted wooden railings. 

 

“The basement?” Blaine guesses, lips twitching as they descend.

 

“You’re a clever one.” Kurt quips playfully from in front of him, he doesn’t bother turning around but Blaine can see his cheeks widen with a smile as he squeezes their joined hands together a little tighter. 

 

Kurt pulls a dangling ceiling cord as they reach the bottom and they are suddenly surrounded by warm yellow light from cute little electric wall sconces and a fancy wooden chandelier. The room looks like any other in the house, light and neutral with carpets and paint and the inviting smell of vanilla and cinnamon from a plug-in air freshener, but it’s smaller down here, like a little snug box room, deep down and intimate. The perfect space really.

 

Because of the small size Blaine’s eyes immediately land on the upright beech wood piano over by the far wall, where there is a tiny window up above near the ceiling. 

 

His whole face lights up and it doesn’t take him long to put two and two together.

 

“Let me guess, your requirements?” Blaine asks, facing Kurt with a quirk of his lips and shining eyes. Kurt simply shrugs, not quite looking at him and gestures over to the far corner where there is an acoustic guitar propped up against the wall, and a sort of chaise longue type chair beside it. 

 

Opposite there is a small desk with a lamp, and a chair stationed underneath the lip, next to that what looks to be some sort of pop-up recording booth. Blaine glances around and finds lots of musically themed electrical equipment, strategically placed. His brain clicks into action as he watches Kurt stride over to the chaise longue and sits down, running his fingers over the tassels hanging from the beige satin cushions. 

 

“K-Kurt, I uh-what-”

 

“I thought- I hoped that you could use this room, you know whenever you wanted it, however you wanted it. It’s yours.” 

 

Blaine stares at him in fond disbelief. Why does Kurt never stop surprising him? How obviously yet obliviously in sync they are, is amazing. 

 

He wanders over to Kurt and sits beside him, taking his hand and folding it between both of his in his lap. 

 

“Kurt, I don’t know what to say.” He says honestly, his voice a little low and tight, like he’s trying to hold back the wave of emotion in his throat. His eyes are dark down here, shining with thanks and reverence and about a million other things.

 

“So don’t.” Kurt says. “You don’t have to say anything. Look you don’t even have to use this room while we’re here if you don’t want to, it’s just that I wanted you to know that you can, and it’s here and it’s yours.” 

 

Blaine smiles, rubs his thumb over the back of Kurt’s hand and leans in, pressing his lips softly and sweetly to Kurt’s. Of course he’ll use the room. He doesn’t know what for yet, apart from obvious jam sessions. Ok he maybe has an idea but what’s baffling him is that he doesn’t know what Kurt expects him to use it for. 

 

They hadn’t talked, about it. About Blaine’s revelation and almost break down over the fact that he didn’t want to pursue a career in singing or performing anymore. With the string of interviews and busy scheduled appearances after the launch night there was hardly any time to, but Blaine wasn’t worried. Kurt had made it perfectly clear that he understood Blaine’s worries’ and had taken on board the fact that he wanted to further his career in a slightly different path.

 

The kiss carries on long and slow until they’re breathing through their noses so deep that they have to pull back and gasp for air. Their faces are still close, eyes still boring into each others when Kurt starts speaking, almost rasping. 

 

“I know we haven’t talked about it, you and what you want to do, you know for you.” The intensity sizzles between them and Blaine just wants to grab him, push him down on to his back on the long seat and kiss him over and over, hard and firm. But he knows better, there is time for that and Kurt has something he needs to say to him, and Blaine needs to hear it. Kurt continues. 

 

“But we don’t have to talk about it. You never have to ask me permission for anything, I trust you to make the right decisions for you and as part of your employment with the business. You take whatever time you need to, do whatever you want to do, as long as I still have you. As long you still fill with me coffee and cookies, and tell me what to do and let me feed your cat with chicken scraps,” Blaine laughs, his eyes shining. “As long as I still get to go to sleep beside you and wake up to the sounds of your snuffling, and exchange glances with you in the conference room that only you know how to interoperate. And know that I’ll help you with anything you ask me to. Here, or New York, or anywhere, I will support you, and I-I’m just so proud of yo-”

 

Blaine can’t take it any longer, he pushes Kurt side ways until he falls back onto the chaise longue. Blaine moulds himself over the top of him and kisses him from neck to chin, jaw to cheek, nose to forehead and back again. Rubbing and panting and writhing. 

 

“Thank you.” He whispers into Kurt’s skin over and over between peck and suck and nibbles.

 

“One more thing,” Kurt murmurs, “Stop saying thank you.” 

 

Blaine grins, ducking back down, his hands already working against the fly of Kurt’s jeans. “I have a condition.” He says.

 

“Oh?” Kurt thrusts up into Blaine’s hands. 

 

“Jes is our cat now, not just mine.”

 

*

 

It turns out that the trip lasts for roughly around five days, Thursday morning to Tuesday morning. 

 

In that time Kurt and Blaine have managed to christen most surfaces of the house as appropriately possible, binge eat their way through many movie marathons, enjoyed a brief exhibitionist streak during a wine filled evening and had even managed to make the tabloids without being in the country. 

 

“New York’s finest power couple appears to have vanished from our city for a mystery getaway. The destination and duration is unknown but sources reveal that Kurt owns property over in Europe. Watch this space and pray for pictures of our favorite business mixed with pleasure couple.” Santana had drawled in her best scandalizing impression during a Skype check-in session. 

 

“Oh how exciting for them, we’ve left the country.” Kurt had retorted dryly, eyes rolling, to which Blaine had squeezed his arm comfortingly.

 

And then there were the texts, many from Sam to Blaine, explaining how bored he was and how much he missed him. He’d decided to spend the free time that Kurt had granted him, going back to Lima, but their ‘bromance’ had apparently gotten under his skin and Sam had found himself pining over his friend. And Kurt of course.

 

“Jealous?” Blaine had asked, an eyebrow raised and a cheeky grin on his lips, as he lay sinfully naked spread out one morning in their English bed, whilst he and Kurt read their texts and emails. 

 

Kurt had merely tutted, “Jealous, pfft, I’ll show you jealous.” He muttered and then covered them both with the large downy soft duvet, causing Blaine’s phone to drop from his grasp and roll to the floor. 

 

The message from Burt to Kurt had been the one that had really made them smile.

 

Dad;  
Sam appeared on my doorstep this morning, complaining that you have stolen his friend off to some English hide out. Come on Kurt, I raised you better than that, you must share!   
Seriously kid, hope you’re having fun over there, and make a date in September free, it’s yours and Blaine’s turn to visit us. Love dad x 

 

On Sunday evening Kurt and Blaine had been invited to dinner over at Sandra and John’s place down the lane, and what a lovely, eventful evening that had been. John had spent most of the night trying to convince Kurt to buy some livestock from him, and Blaine thought Sandra was pretty much going to kidnap and adopt him. 

 

On the morning of their departure, Blaine has just placed the last of their bags in the car and comes back into the house looking for Kurt. He’s sad to leave this place but knows that they’ll be back, he just knows it. 

 

It’s weird because he has loved being here and away from that ‘other’ life, but he does actually miss it. He’s excited to get back to work, pull up his sleeves and dig his claws into something. To start what ever it is that he’s now ready to start with Kurt by his side. 

 

Blaine calls out to Kurt, stepping through the house, knowing that it’s a lost cause in such a large building, but is surprised to hear a response in the way of music. Piano music.

 

Blaine’s feet carry him through to the lounge housing the secret staircase leading downstairs and as he slowly and quietly descends the steps the piano chords hit him, striking deep and powerful, vibrating through his bones. 

 

The playing is obviously not as well honed or skilled as Blaine’s but it’s getting there, its still super impressive and Blaine relishes in the fact that his one-on-one sessions have obviously paid off. 

 

And then there’s the voice. Kurt’s voice, Kurt’s beautiful dramatic, lovely counter tenor voice filling Blaine in the most haunting yet ethereal way ever. 

 

And Blaine recognizes the song almost instantly, it’s an old chart hit, a favorite classic ballad with the most powerful meaning. The lyrics home in on Blaine as he stands at the base of the stairs and watches Kurt play and sing, silently, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest.

 

“Guess it's true, I'm not good at a one-night stand  
But I still need love 'cause I'm just a man  
These nights never seem to go to plan  
I don't want you to leave, will you hold my hand?

 

Oh, won't you stay with me?  
'Cause you're all I need  
This ain't love, it's clear to see  
But darling, stay with me

 

Why am I so emotional?  
No, it's not a good look, gain some self-control  
And deep down I know this never works  
But you can lay with me so it doesn't hurt

 

Oh, won't you stay with me?  
'Cause you're all I need  
This ain't love, it's clear to see  
But darling, stay with me”

 

It’s over so quickly, over before Blaine can actually process that Kurt has stopped, has stood up and is approaching him slowly, his eyes piercing like glass diamonds. 

 

“I was hoping you’d find me down here,” Kurt says quietly, coming to stand just in front of him. “I was too chicken shit to ask you to come, but I’d knew you’d hear, that you’d come.” He reaches forward and takes hold of Blaine’s hand. “That was a gift me to you, here. I felt like I wanted to share something with you, and present you with something.” 

 

Blaine pulls Kurt’s hand up to his chest, tugging him closer and splaying his fingers over his heart. He gapes back at Kurt, obviously choked up. Kurt continues.

 

“That-that song, reminded me of you, of us, so much, back when-during Christmas and New year and stuff, you know?” Blaine offers a shaky smile, nods. “It’s the truth, only now it’s clear to see that it is love, and clearly back then I was just to dumb to admit it.”

 

“I love you Kurt.” Blaine breathes, because there is simply nothing else important to say. 

 

“I know, and I wish I had of let myself know it back then. I love you too. Duh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- The song is obviously Sam Smith- Stay with me, and I don’t own it or anything from Glee, bleurgh. I’m not normally a one for using full song lyrics in fics but sometimes they just fit you know? And this song was actually the theme song in my head throughout writing the whole of the first fic UFN. 
> 
> Anyway I hope you enjoyed, thank you again. By the way a lovely friend told me that my Tumblr link didn’t work last time I posted it, so if you want to you can find me at fictionallylost.
> 
> Oh, I’m a rather visually stimulated person, and for those readers who are too and who are interested, you can find Kurt’s holiday home on my blog.


	6. Chapter 6

The summer seems to fly over like a whirlwind, and in that time work comes quick and full yet still easy and steady, not too much but not too little either, just right.

 

Kurt’s new range takes full flight and a whole army of people are employed in all regions and venues to assist, leaving both Kurt and Blaine able to take care of more of their other duties.

 

There are events in all shapes and sizes- award shows, charity fund raisers, movie premiers and more of the like, all with both of Blaine and Kurt’s names on.  
It seems like at the moment everybody wants a piece of the duo, a slice of what life is really like for them in and out of the office.

 

Sometimes it’s necessary to take a step back and look at what’s really important, what’s vital and needed in terms of the business, or is their presence only wanted to gawk at and leer over. 

 

In the end there are just as many declines as there are acceptances and Blaine lets Kurt decide on every one of them. He seems to get some sort of a kick out of being able to decide where he wants to show his face and show off his arm candy. Blaine just lets him run with it.

 

Blaine won’t admit it out loud, still, but he does secretly love the bossiness in Kurt, and the hold he has on him, and not just because he is indeed his boss. It’s this hidden submissive side of Blaine that opens up to this Kurt, this Kurt that demands and takes and controls and makes Blaine feel liking rolling over on to his back and begging Kurt to just take him, have him.

 

It’s one of the reasons why they work, why they’re Kurt and Blaine, how they can work and live with and love each other so well and so strongly all at the same time. 

 

There have even been some offers for some personal interviews, like the widespread ones you get in those glossy gossip magazines, with photo shopped pictures of couples and their families pretending to like each other whilst smiling randomly at a marble fireplace. 

 

There’s no way in hell that Kurt is letting any of that anywhere near his home and his personal life. Blaine has to deal with enough without his privacy being invaded also.

 

As the fall slowly approaches and September appears out of nowhere, things are starting to ease up and seem almost normal. They work together either from the office or out in whatever venue they’ve been sequestered in that day, and then they come home and act like any other ordinary couple. They shower and change into PJ’s and sweats, cook dinner whilst fondling and groping each other, share sticky ice cream kisses on the couch whilst watching something completely ridiculous and then push each other into bed and writhe themselves to sleep.

 

It’s perfect.

 

There hasn’t been much talk of Blaine’s own personal future plans, and Kurt seemingly isn’t going to push it. It isn’t something that he has to necessarily jump right into and make all major decisions in one go. 

 

Blaine knows that Kurt’s support is there and Blaine has assured Kurt that he isn’t going anywhere, but has also promised that he will look into other aspects of a potential new career for him.

 

They have already discussed and made clear on the fact that Blaine is not going to leave working for Kurt in order to pursue whatever it is he wants to pursue, he is going to do it alongside working for Kurt.

 

Blaine thinks he’s working for Kurt, but everyone around them who spends enough time observing them knows fine well, that in the little over a year that Blaine has been around, he’s really come in to his own. He doesn’t just work for Kurt, he works with him. And everyone knows that Kurt just wouldn’t work at all without Blaine, not anymore. They are both just as needy and greedy of each other in equal measures. 

 

After all, Kurt had admitted- with evidence backed up by Carole, Burt and Santana- that it was more of a companion in someone he needed, not an actual assistant, per say. Someone to rely on and be relied on back, someone to reassure himself with, to be able to look at someone and not feel judged, but to feel wanted and needed and able to feel like he can just be. 

 

And that someone turned out to be Blaine, who has proven himself worthy and vital to Kurt’s needs in more than one way. 

 

Not everything is entirely different though, and though at the time of Blaine fully submerging himself into Kurt’s everyday life, things that had seemed to change are now settling back into place. It’s hard to describe, kind of like old and new are merging together and now it’s just comfortable, it’s right.

 

It’s during one hazy September afternoon, when the weather is warm but dull, with grey clouds and pointless misty raindrops, that Blaine is reminded of the very early version of Kurt he had grown to know so well and come to love.

 

After proving over the spring and summer that they could in fact actually cope without each other for a few hours of the day and didn’t have to be attached at the hip, Blaine had suggested he stay behind for some meetings that Kurt is more than able to attend on his own. 

 

In that time Blaine would stay home in the office and generally tidy up the mess of their space and schedules and lives that the past and current busy week had caused.

 

On this day in particular it hadn’t taken Blaine as much time as expected to draft up some generic emails and rearrange some dates in the diary. After completing every little task he had set himself, he decides to spend some time ‘for him’ like what Kurt had asked of him in his new contract- If that’s what Kurt is still calling it.

 

He starts off in the study, happily strumming away on his guitar, mentally visualising future liner notes and lyrics. Then he switches over to the keyboard, fiddling with the settings and experimenting with the symphonic keys and tones before moving out to the living room and sitting at his piano.

 

As he plays, with his fingers gliding over the keys expertly from muscle memory he closes his eyes and imagines his melody played over the top of some dramatic theatrical scene. He smiles at the thought. 

 

After some time he ends up back in the office, sitting at his computer desk, and a number of search engine boxes and windows opened up on his laptop screen. He’s in the middle of scrutinizing some kind of online blog about production companies and music incorporations when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

 

With a small smile he fishes it out and looks down whilst unlocking the screen, thinking its Kurt telling him that he’s on his way back and what plans he has in mind for Blaine.

 

Cooper  
Little Bro! When do I get to meet my new bro-in law? When is he going to give me a job? Mom is still concerned after seeing that clip of you on the net some weeks ago getting your assed kicked by the paps. She wants you to hire a security guard, she actually wants you to hire dad. HA! Dad! Don’t think he knows about it though. Hire me!! Love you bro x

 

Ok so that isn’t exactly the message he had expected to see, although honestly he isn’t completely surprised. This is just the first of many messages that Cooper has been sending him ever since he and Kurt came out publically as dating- well more publically than before anyway.

 

With a sigh, a hand rubbed over his face and an undeniable amused chuckle he replies with some sort of crazy faced out of place emoji and then calls his parent’s house number.

 

“Blaine?” His mom answers after only one two rings.

 

“Yeah, hey mom, how’d you know it was-”

 

“Oh it saves numbers and names on this fancy new phone your father bought, cool huh?” Blaine can’t help but smile.

 

“Yeah, pretty cool mom. How are you? How’s dad?” 

 

“Fine dear, we’re both fine, as usual. We miss you, and your brother of course, but we never hear from you now that you’re famous and all.”

 

“I’m not famous mom-”

 

“But your boyfriend is.”

 

“Mom-” Blaine cuts himself off with an exhale. How the hell does he respond to that, how can he deflect? He can’t, it’s the truth. Both parts are completely true. Kurt is his boyfriend and Kurt is famous. And damn if they weren’t words that Blaine thought he’d never ever use. 

 

He feels giddy and a little panicked at the same time, fluttering butterflies mixed with that weighed down feeling, it’s both pleasurable and exhausting. A constant thought vibrating through his mind and tingling under his skin. 

 

“Yeah mom, he is. Doesn’t mean that I am.” It still feels weird, openly talking to his mother about stuff like this, after spending so many years avoiding these sorts of conversations with both of his parents, it’s nice though at the same time, but still a little odd.

 

He remembers that first conversation that he’d had with his mom a few months ago, who had then conveyed it over to his dad in a sort of live running commentary fashion. 

 

It had been awkward with limited words and very little phone conversation etiquette and manner, but it went something a long the lines of;  
“So I just thought you should know that-that Kurt and I are gonna try dating, we-we are dating now, um as well as working with each other, and we’re living together, obviously-cause you know we always were. But um yeah.”

 

It could have been better but it also could have been a lot worse. 

 

Blaine was just relieved that his mother’s response of, “That’s nice dear, well good for you, just be careful, ok? Don’t get too carried away with it all. Oh and your father wants to know who looks after Mr Hummel’s finances?” was as nice and normal as that, even if a little unclear and odd. But he wasn’t going to pry for more, he had their acceptance and blessing and that’s all that mattered to him. 

 

After that conversation, every time Kurt and Blaine were spotted and snapped out in public Blaine would receive some form of message from both his brother and his parents, with very different contents but similar meanings, loosely translating to, ‘We’re happy to see you happy, when can we meet him?’

 

Blaine’s mom sighs and chuckles a little bit down the other end of the phone, it’s something that Blaine had picked up from her.

 

“I know that dear, I’m just saying that you’re too busy with your celebrity-esque lifestyle to visit with us these days, and I worry about you. I see and hear what those people say to you with their cameras and their vulgar, suggestive comments. It’s very unsettling for a mother you know.” 

 

Blaine sinks back into his desk chair. He gets it, she’s right and he knows what he’s got to do to put her mind at rest. Blaine and his family haven’t always been close, but they love and care for each other, and their hearts have always been in the right place, if not a little wonky. 

 

“I know mom, I’m sorry that you feel like that, but you know I’m ok right, I’m happy, I promise.” 

 

“Mm-hmm. And we all know why, don’t we?” He can hear the smile in her voice, he can visualise her eyes crinkling with teasing mirth. He actually forgets how alike they truly are, and this little reminder makes him smile right back at her down the phone, in an empty room.

 

“I’ll visit you soon, I promise. What are your plans for the last weekend of this month?” Blaine thinks about the upcoming trip to Lima, mentally calculating when he can slip away from the Hummel’s for a little while to meet up with his parents in Westerville. He’ll ask if Cooper can make it back from LA too, they could have a family lunch and then he could be back in Kurt’s arms with his lovely welcoming family by night fall. His parents won’t suspect a thing.

 

It’s not that he doesn’t trust his family around Kurt. It’s just that he knows that the house Kurt had bought Burt and Carole is well equipped for privacy and security purposes. They can hideout in that house undetected and unbothered, but at his parent’s home in Westerville, even though it’s grand and spacious, it’s not exactly secluded.

 

Though it could be, he knows that if he asked his parents, they would do their best to keep he and Kurt safe ands hidden. Even though Cooper isn’t exactly ‘Kurt’ famous he still throws himself in to every spotlight he can, and his parents have become acclimated to that, so they can adjust to Kurt and Blaine right?

 

He’ll think about it, for future visits. His mom doesn’t know that they’re both coming to Lima together for a few days. She doesn’t have to know anything. 

 

“My plans are now whatever you’re planning Blaine. Oh I’m so happy son, promise me you’ll come.” Blaine smiles, this is what families should be like, he’s feeling like he should have always felt when organizing arrangements with his family.

 

“I promise mom, I’ll be there.”

 

“And Kurt? Will he be accompanying you? We could make up you’re old bedroom, I could cook you both your favourite meal that you used to like whenever you came home at weekends from school.” 

 

Oh. Well that certainly catches him off guard. He’s not exactly surprised, he knows that his mom and most definitely Cooper and probably his dad have been hinting to meet Kurt for weeks. He just never thought that his mom would be so direct about it, so willing and make it sound so easy and normal and like it wouldn’t be the most scariest, embarrassing thing in the world.

 

“Um, I uh-”

 

“Don’t you trust us Blaine? You obviously really like this man, and I’d have thought that you would have wanted us, especially me, your mother to meet him. You can trust me with him. I promise.” 

 

Blaine feels his chest crack and ache slightly, he’s never heard his mother sound so quiet and dejected and almost sad. He loves his mom, and he loves Kurt more than anything, his mom may not know that yet, but she’s right, they should know each other. He wants the two very close and personal aspects of his life to meet, old mixed with new.

 

“I’ll see what I can do mom, I’ll ask him, you know how busy he is, he’s going to visit his parents anyway. Well we both are-”

 

“You are?” God damn Blaine. You and your mouth.

 

“Well yes, I’ve met them both, more than once, we are-they are-we’re close.” His mom grows quiet, with just a breathy puff of air.

 

Shit.

 

“Mom? I met them when they came to the condo, on separate occasions, it wasn’t planned. Carole actually helps Kurt sometimes with his business, she interviewed me, that’s when I officially met her. You’ll meet Kurt, you will.”

 

“Ok Blaine.” She’s still quiet but the hint of sadness has gone, “Hopefully we will see you and Kurt soon then. Take care son.” 

 

“You too mom.” Blaine tries to sound as bright as he can manage, “Love you.”

 

“I love you too son, and if Kurt loves you as much as I do, he’ll want to meet me and your father and even your brother too. Bye darling.”

 

Well Damn. 

 

*

 

Kurt’s meeting that day had been scheduled for two o’clock in the afternoon and should have only lasted no longer than an hour. It was just supposed to be a basic ‘this is where we are now and this is what we aim to do next’ type meeting that his management team for his multiple ranges had arranged. It’s something that they like to do occasionally in order to settle any issues or worries and to ensure that Kurt is always satisfied with the choices and decisions that they make. 

 

However two and a half hours later when Blaine receives no call or text and is just about to call Sam, he hears the elevator arrive and the doors slide open with its familiar metal hum.

 

He gets up out of his seat and strolls to the open office doorway, hands in the pockets of his navy office slacks, leaning against the door jamb.

 

Kurt shuffles out of the elevator before the doors have even finished opening, his hair is dishevelled from the appalling afternoon rain, his cheeks are flushed and his shirt collar is unbuttoned and his tie is half hanging out of his jacket pocket. 

 

He looks absolutely gorgeous, and extremely pissed off. 

 

“Hey are you alright? What took you so long-” Blaine steps out towards Kurt, arms open, but with a second look, quickly changes his mind and backs off.

 

Obviously the meeting hadn’t turned out to be just a basic whatever Kurt thought it was going to be. 

 

Kurt storms passed Blaine, almost knocking him back into the door frame and into the office. When Blaine turns on his heel to stare at him, he doesn’t even sit down at his desk, just kind of walks around the room in tight circles, a deep frown on his face.

 

Blaine slowly steps forward, he’s racking his brains, trying to think of the right words to say, the right questions when suddenly Kurt rips off his jacket, throws it on to the desk and starts pulling at the buttons on his sleeve cuffs. 

 

“Why can’t people just do what they’re told you know? They get paid to do as I tell them. No I don’t want them to re-launch the Mr and Mr range for a more seasonal value. That range is unique and specific and for a reason, a damn good reason. I don’t just spew out clothes like some machine for no special reason. God.”

 

Blaine bows his head, with his arms crossed against his chest, blows out a breath and resists the urge to whistle under his breath. 

 

Oh he hasn’t seen this Kurt in a while. ‘Broody, bitchy, I’m too good for the world’ Kurt is back. And Blaine has strangely kind of missed him.

 

“It is my choice. Mine. I get the final say, and I pay them to listen.” Kurt points in some random direction, whilst he stares into thin air. “I’m not just a god damned pretty face.” He’s not quite shouting, yet not just talking either. “I have a brain. I didn’t earn my money with nothing up here did I,” He starts poking at his head and Blaine looks up at him, his expression startled but fond, “I know what I’m doing.”

 

Kurt scoffs out a breath and finally slumps down into his chair behind his desk. He raises his head, his eyes like bright burning blue flames, billowing with grey puffs of smoke, trained right on Blaine. 

 

Suddenly Blaine starts to feel very sorry for his team and can only imagine what they’re feeling right now.

 

“This is why you should come with me, to back me up. This is why I hired you, to be there with me, everywhere. You should have been there. You know why I made that damn range, and no I don’t want to produce it in seven different colours and fabrics. It just is what it is.” Kurt’s voice starts to rise in pitch. “The stitching of the dinner suit is the colour of your eyes when you’re laughing freely and the pocket lining in the casual pants suit remind me of that shirt you nearly always wear to bed. The range can’t be changed.” 

 

Kurt’s eyes are still cold and piercing but his voice is softening, slightly cracking. He closes his mouth, swallows and blinks a couple of times. 

 

Blaine simply stares at him, an eye brow quirked. There’s a slight glimmer of humour in his eyes and the shadow of an upturned lip, but his facial features are masked with reverence mixed with slight concern. 

 

Quietly and softly Blaine says to him, “You finished?” 

 

Kurt stares at him for a few silent achingly long seconds and then slowly nods, his shoulders sagging. Blaine nods once in return and then swiftly walks out of the room. 

 

Blaine heads straight for the staircase, taking two at a time he hits the first landing in seconds and strides towards the bedroom, already pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. When he gets inside he’s almost naked, heading for the en suite he undoes his fly and steps out of his pants, balling up his discarded clothes and planting them in the laundry basket on his way passed. 

 

In the en suite he thumbs down his boxers whilst reaching for the dials of the shower and when he’s completely naked and the temperature is warm enough, he steps inside facing the far tiled wall.

 

And waits.

 

The hot water feels good cascading down his back and shoulders as Blaine stands under the downpour, rubbing his hands through his hair and over his face.

 

It doesn’t take long and Blaine barely hears the sound of the glass shower partition sliding open under the loud gushing of the water, but when he feels warm breath ghosting over the wet skin of his neck and a pair of arms suddenly wrapping around from behind him, pulling him tight and close- he can’t help but hum appreciatively and smile.

 

He leans back, pushing his shoulders into Kurt’s chest and places his arms on top of Kurt’s, pulling him closer.

 

“I’m sorry.” The words are hushed into his shoulder followed by a trail of soft open mouthed kisses. Blaine turns around in Kurt’s arms and reaches up to sweep his wet hair back from his forehead.

 

He smiles softly at him, watching him intently. “I know you are, but don’t be, it’s ok.”

 

“No it’s not.” Kurt closes his eyes and pushes his face into Blaine’s palm when he drops his hand to Kurt’s face. “But thank you for being your usual annoying perfect self and putting up with me anyway.” 

 

Blaine pulls himself up on to his tiptoes and plants a wet smacking kiss on Kurt’s forehead. “Is this still part of your apology? because you’re kind of going off track.” 

 

Kurt smiles, chuckles a bit and then leans down to kiss him back on the lips, once, twice and then again and again, slick and messy, full of loud gasps and moans.

 

Blaine starts to short-circuit, the feel of Kurt under his hands and his lips, soft skin warm and wet and slippery and very naked is becoming a little too much. Yet still he manages to pull back just a fraction and look into Kurt’s eyes, with his hands placed either side of Kurt’s neck.

 

“Do you want to talk about what happened? Are you ok? Just a bad day?” 

 

Kurt smiles and nods, ducks down to kiss Blaine and giggles when Blaine pulls back obviously wanting words before kisses.

 

“I’m fine, you know that this is what I need right now. Just you and me, together. Like this, like now.” He ducks back in, folding his arms around Blaine’s waist and back. 

 

Blaine nods and smirks, accepts one kiss and then pulls back and says, “What you said though, about me, is it really my fault, do I-”

 

“No, of course it’s not your fault.” Kurt sighs and swipes his hands through his hair, ringing out some of the droplets. He resumes his hold on Blaine, close and tight and looks deeply into his eyes, they’re clear and bright and soft. His skin is pale with a slight rosy blush spreading over his cheeks and chest and shoulders, all of that mixed with the swirling steam of the hot water around them Kurt looks utterly delectable. Blaine even licks his lips. 

 

“I’m sorry that I said that, of course it’s not your fault. I was just needing to vent you know and I just wanted to-”

 

“Did you mean what you said about the colour of my eyes and-and the suit?” Blaine can’t help but interrupt. Honestly he couldn’t care less about being Kurt’s verbal punching bag, he just wants to make sure that he’s ok, and honestly, now he’s reeling over what else had been confessed in Kurt’s heated little moment of outrage. 

 

Blaine’s chest is pounding, he feels a mixture of nerves, overjoyed and turned on all at the same time, and it’s strange.

 

Kurt nods, his lips lifting into a slow cheeky smile. “Of course, it’s the truth.” 

 

Blaine tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, he catches the way Kurt’s eyes flash as they follow the movement. “I didn’t know that. You never told me that.”

 

Kurt slowly starts to rock them, swaying softly side to side. 

 

“Well do you need to know everything?” He’s teasing, Blaine knows that, and the glint in his eyes is just too over powering, too fucking gorgeous. “Look, please can we stop talking about this now. My team pissed me off, but it’s over now. I’m ok and I’m sorry and please just kiss me.”

 

And there’s only really one answer to that. Blaine pushes up and in to Kurt and kisses him hard and fast. 

 

Back in the early days when Blaine came across this Kurt, there wasn’t much that he could do other than bribe him out of his moods with food and coffee, tempt him into laughing at his jokes and smiling at his silly faces. But then at night he would have to go to his own room and get into his own bed and only be able to relieve himself of the day’s tension with his own hand.

 

And then even when he and Kurt had started fooling around and pleasuring each other in the most exquisite ways, there was still a guard there, a barrier that was keeping them from truly being and feeling whole together. 

 

But now Kurt is his, his to know and to please and to help and it’s Blaine’s duty to do right by him always, no matter of his shitty attitude or mood. This was always the Kurt that he had fallen in love with, and now he is able to deal with these moods in which ever way he wishes. 

 

Blaine knows Kurt’s, knows his needs and his limits, when he’s ready to snap and when he’s ready to explode into a million pieces, and when he just needs to be loved thoroughly, and reminded that he is loved in return, over and over.

 

Right now Kurt just needs to let off some steam, and what better way or place to do just that than in a steamy shower stall with a much too eager participant.

 

Blaine starts lowering his lips down over Kurt’s collarbone and chest, sucking lip and light teeth marks in a trail down to his navel as he bends and kneels on the tiled floor. Kurt moans and curls his fingers into Blaine’s hair, scrunching the soggy curls into tiny spirals and letting them spring back up, tickling against his palm.

 

Blaine could already feel Kurt half hard against his leg moments ago when they were kissing, even when they were just standing close holding each other, but now as his face nudges lower down Kurt’s body towards his groin, Kurt’s long hard erection sticks out and nudges against his chin.

 

Blaine smirks and lightly kneads Kurt’s ass with his fingers, turning his hips as he goes and pushes at Kurt’s thighs so that he twists and steps back, pressing up against the wall behind him.

 

Blaine mouths at his cock, doesn’t close his lips around him but makes sure that every inch of Kurt has been covered by his lips in some variation.

 

“Bl-Blaine-” Kurt pants, “Stand up please, I need-I need-”

 

Blaine slowly starts to rise up off of his knees, kissing up Kurt’s stomach as he goes.

 

“What? What do you need?” He’s smirking as Kurt starts to pull him towards the back of the tiled stall. He already knows what’s going to happen, and his body thrums with excitement.

 

The shower in the en suite is more like a wet room, the flooring is even and wide and there’s plenty space for both Kurt and Blaine to be in there at the same time, washing and cleansing…and other stuff, of course. 

 

Kurt’s hands wander down to Blaine’s hips, grasping firmly, his fingers starting to widen and spread, travelling over Blaine’s firm cheeks, slowly teasingly pulling them apart. Blaine groans. 

 

Standing up sex is the best, it’s hot and wild and feral and when they can get the angle just right, because of the slight height difference- it’s fucking perfect. 

 

But the thing with that is it’s usually back to chest, face pressed up against a wall of some variety. There was that time when Blaine had managed to pick Kurt up, with his long lean legs wrapped around his hips, and had fucked him for as long as he could manage until his arms started to spasm and his thighs started to quiver.

 

But with the way Kurt is huffing and panting, moaning and writhing against him, it’s pretty clear that he hasn’t got the time or patience to do that, and it’s one of those moments that feels deep and intimate and personal and there’s nothing hotter than staring into the eyes of who you’re sinking deep in to.

 

And Kurt needs inside of him. Like yesterday. 

 

So that is why they recently had a bench installed up against the far tiled wall of the shower compartment. For these occasions. 

 

Kurt eases himself down on to the wide tiled bench and pulls Blaine into his lap with his legs spread wide, straddling over his. Blaine smiles and ducks his head into the crook of Kurt’s neck, placing a line of kisses up to his jaw line and back. He leans into Kurt as close as he can, pushing his ass out and spreading his bent legs as wide as he can manage, giving Kurt perfect access.

 

Kurt presses a finger to Blaine’s hole, fuzzy and damp, soft and warm and even though the only lubricant they’re using right now is running water, Kurt can’t resist in pushing the tip of his finger in.

 

Kurt kisses his jaw and whispers against his skin as he moves his finger around in small tight circles. “Mmm, so tight Blaine.”

 

Blaine can only whine and whimper a bit in response, circling his hips in small circles on Kurt’s lap, trying to help him out. Eventually Kurt pulls out and reaches under the bench where they keep their little plastic basket of ‘supplies’. Blaine situates himself more comfortably and is eagerly anticipating the feeling Kurt’s fingers pressing into his hole once more, when Kurt suddenly takes a hold of his hand and squirts a dollop of cool gel like liquid into his palm.

 

“Stretch yourself. Get yourself ready for me.” He drawls into Blaine’s ear. Blaine gets right to it. 

 

Kurt’s hard on becomes increasingly impatient, bouncing and throbbing, leaking at the tip between their stomachs as Kurt stares down at Blaine fingering himself open for him. Blaine is making the most pornographic sound effects as he does so, rolling his hips, chewing on his lip, fluttering his eye lashes and although Kurt knows fine well he’s doing it for show, to get Kurt to hurry the fuck up and take him, Kurt holds off for as long as he can.

 

Watching Blaine like this, on top of him, completely at Kurt’s mercy, and readying himself for his cock is not something that deserves to be rushed, even if the end result will be no doubt even more spectacular. 

 

When Blaine finally pulls his fingers out, brushes them up against Kurt’s chest, leaving creamy streaks, he plants a hard smacker of a kiss to Kurt’s lips and Kurt knows that play time is over. It’s time for the real work. 

 

Blaine winds his arms around Kurt’s shoulders, lifts himself up and with one hand grasped firmly around Kurt’s cock –causing him to cry out- and another hand spreading himself open, he slowly lowers himself back down. 

 

Kurt hisses and cusses after the first push, breathes deeply and looses himself in the sounds of Blaine moaning all the way down during his descent to fully bottom out.

 

After the initial stretch, they both find their rhythm and then Blaine is away, bouncing up and down of top of Kurt like there’s no time to lose. Kurt digs his fingers into Blaine’s hips, and manages to gasp out “God Blaine, so good. Fuck. So tight and so fast, I’m not going to last if you don’t slow down.”

 

Blaine smirks, still bouncing wildly, his hard cock bouncing back and forth between him and Kurt. The smirk sharp disappears with a groan and a whine curling up his throat when Kurt shifts his hips, grinds upwards and hits Blaine’s prostate once, twice, three times in a row. 

 

“If I’m coming, you’re coming with me.” Kurt grits out, pumping his hips, hard and fast.

 

It doesn’t take long for Kurt to come and apparently that had been Blaine’s intention all along, even though he isn’t quite there yet himself. He starts grinding down against Kurt’s groin in between little jerks and bounces, tightening his cheeks and drawing every last ounce of control from Kurt’s dick. 

 

Kurt comes, hard and gloriously, he cries out before biting down onto Blaine’s shoulder and spasms his hips up and down, in and out, until he looses breath and almost consciousness. 

 

Blaine kisses him through it, moans into his skin and when he feels Kurt start to soften inside of him he slowly pulls himself up and off. Kurt rouses, lifts his hooded gaze and licks his lips as Blaine stands in front of him between his legs, his cock sticking out, begging for attention. 

 

“You didn’t come.” Kurt accuses in a mock warning tone, it’s hardly a question, more of a demanding statement. He walks his fingers up Blaine’s thigh towards his cock and balls, pulls his own ass to the edge of the bench and looks up at Blaine. 

 

Blaine cards his fingers though Kurt’s hair, holding them there. The shower is still running steadily behind them, the glass panes are all steamed up and it’s becoming a little hazy and difficult to see clearly. 

 

“I was waiting for you, to feel you wrapped around me.” Blaine drawls low and deep, he looks down at Kurt, a playful glimmer in his eyes.

 

Kurt takes him in his hand, leans in so that his lips are just touching the leaking slit at the head of Blaine’s dick. 

 

“Anything for you.” Kurt whispers, his tongue darting out to lick just once. “Anything you want, however, wherever you want me. It’s done.” Finally he closes his lips around Blaine, his tongue swirling. 

 

Blaine moans loudly, allows Kurt to bob up and down a few times, encourages him with his fingers in his hair and then when Kurt blinks up at him with his cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, he chooses to say as steadily as he can, “When we visit your dad and Carole. We’re going to Westerville too. I want you to meet my family.”

 

If there is ever a Polaroid picture moment. This is definitely it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Please see end notes as to how/why this extra sneaky update came about. Thank you and I hope you enjoy.

A weekend in Lima had turned out to be exactly what the doctor ordered, for all involved. It’s calm and relaxing, and all phones and electronic devices are switched off and only turned on once a day to check for emergencies. 

 

Santana knows how to contact them if things turn pear shaped and if it’s vital but had promised that she wouldn’t let it get to that. And even though Jes had stared at them with bright blue watery eyes and Blaine had thought for a fleeting moment that Kurt was going to produce some designer pet carry case and take him along for the journey, the little cat had been left behind with aunt San. 

 

Sam had joined them for the trip and after greeting Burt warmly at the airport on Friday afternoon, had taken a cab back to his family’s house to surprise them for the weekend. 

 

Friday night dinner with the Hummel’s was spent down in what they call the den- a room with no windows, lit up with warm lamps, huge comfy sofas and a wide screen hanging from the wall- and was a lovely mixture of take-out, movies and Pictionary.

 

The Hummel’s home is beautiful, residing in a quiet neighbourhood, large and spacious but still homely. It’s obvious how much money has been invested in the interior design and the build of the house, but as modern as it is, Blaine can still see the slight traditional touches that Burt and Carole have added. 

 

Their house is surrounded by a seven foot beige bricked wall with a security gate out front. All windows of the house are double glazed and each door leading to the outside has a safety catch. The house is alarmed and it’s pretty difficult for any unwanted guests to make their way on to the premises. 

 

It may seem a little over the top but it’s a precaution that Kurt had insisted on taking to protect not only his privacy but Burt and Carole’s as well. Even their cars are like monstrous armoured machines with blacked out windows.

 

Lima may be a small town sort of place but there are still people who are pretty un-accepting and maybe a little crazy. Because Burt didn’t want to leave Lima because of his business here and the obvious attachment of Finn’s memory, these were the terms and conditions to accept if he wanted to carry on living here after Kurt became wealthy and well known and super successful. 

 

Blaine loves how comfortable he feels in Burt and Carole’s home, it’s kind of like he was almost supposed to always be there with them, like he’s been missing out on this for all of this time. It’s weird but he can’t quite shake that feeling.

 

What is even more odd and amazing is that Kurt- who hasn’t been back here for many years up until recently- doesn’t act like there’s been any difference or change at all. What ever rift there had been seems to have settled and both Kurt and his father understand and respect each other’s feeling on the matter. 

 

Burt seems ecstatic to have his boy back in his life, Carole is overjoyed to have him around more and have Blaine in tow, and Kurt just seems so normal and relaxed, like he’s not this hot headed CEO/designer. 

 

He will openly hold Blaine’s hand in short brief intervals in front of his father, or affectionately touch his shoulder or absentmindedly tickle the back of his neck whilst emerged in deep conversation. Or in the kitchen whilst Carole is trying to demonstrate how to replicate her awesome cheesecake, Kurt will have no problem in referencing some sweet stories from their time in the kitchen together back in New York.

 

Blaine revels in it, revels in the feeling of having Kurt like this, so pure and turned off from the normal hectic lifestyle he leads, with no qualms or cares, or prying eyes and ears around. And Blaine is not too proud to admit that he loves the fact that he has a hand in it, he has helped Kurt get here to this place. Not just Lima, but this place in his life, where he feels comfortable and confident enough to do as he pleases, and be himself. Blaine feels giddy with it all.

 

And let’s not forget to add the fact that even though Blaine had been perfectly prepared to stay in the guest room during their stay- because he is proper and a gent- Carole had shushed him and Burt had grumbled something about being consenting adults, and therefore Blaine found himself wrapped up in Kurt’s arms in his Lima bedroom. That was pretty awesome and fulfilling too. 

 

On Saturday morning whilst Kurt follows Carole about the house helping with chores, and preparing for brunch and generally chewing each other’s ears off about anything and everything, Burt takes Blaine to his work shop.

 

It’s a little chilly out but the sun is still beaming brightly, so the beanie, big woolly scarf and pair of dark sunglasses that Blaine is wearing as a sort of disguise seems pretty rational. 

 

Kurt could have came along too, but it may have been too risky. Kurt would have been instantly recognised by Burt’s employee’s and although they all understand and respect the privacy needed for Burt’s son, word would have somehow spread anyway.

 

It’s not even that Kurt has a problem with meeting people who recognise him or follow his work, it’s just that on this occasion and after their pretty manic and very public summer of events, Kurt just wants to stay on the down low.

 

Burt’s workshop is impressive and much different to the little garage that Kurt had told Blaine about when he used to help his dad back here all those years ago. Kurt had obviously given his father the money needed to reinvent the place, extend it and modernize all of the interior and equipment. There’s a large row of glass panelled rooms towards the back of the shed, behind the car skeletons and units and shelves of power tools, and after Blaine peers inside he can see that they’re offices, rest and break rooms, all kitted out with some pretty fancy stuff.

 

Burt leaves Blaine to wander around a little, once satisfied that the only people in here right now wont recognise or bug him too much, whilst he goes and deals with Terry. Terry is Burt’s deputy and right hand man, who right now seems to have a converted engine brought in that morning that just won’t start. 

 

They had only called in for Blaine to have a quick look around and for Burt to pick up some documents he needed to peruse, on their way to the store to get some stuff needed for dinner that night. 

 

And secretly Blaine knows how proud of this place Burt is, and if it was important enough for him to invite Blaine along to see it, then doesn’t that just make Blaine’s chest pound a little harder, and cause a frenzy in his stomach.

 

In the corner of the shop beside the front desk where enquiries and payments are made there is a large stand and Blaine recognises it immediately. He tucks his glasses into the pocket of his coat and smiles as he looks down at all of Kurt’s mechanic gear and merchandise hanging proudly from the rails and hooks. 

 

“Hey, I know you, your Blaine right, Kurt’s fella?” Blaine turns to his side, a little startled and sees a bright smiling face, only a few feet away, beaming back at him.

 

“I’m Terry’s son, Nate.” The owner of the voice with dark brown short ruffled hair and a scruffy unkempt beard holds his oil smeared hand out to Blaine. He seems around Blaine’s age, maybe a bit younger.

 

“Oh um yeah, I’m Blaine. Hi Nate, nice to meet you.” Blaine takes his hand, Nate smiles shakes it and then pulls back his hand to give Blaine a shoulder slap. 

 

“It’s nice to see you around here dude, it’s a shame Kurt can’t come but I know why, but you know it’s great that you’re here and it’s also great that you got Kurt and Burt talking again, and Kurt seems more like himself again.” 

 

Oh. Blaine starts shaking his head, his cheeks blushing slightly, he’s not quite sure what to say, but he’s grateful for the guy, he seems genuine. Blaine drops his head with a shy smile and his gaze automatically drops to the guy’s coveralls. 

 

The fabric looks thin but strong and resistant, the colour is a deep navy with delicate black stitching along the seams, and on the right hand side chest pocket the guy’s name is sewed on followed by the name of Burt’s shop and then ending with a tiny little logo- Kurt’s design logo. 

 

“Nate, stop bothering my buddy here and go help your old man would ya?” Burt’s amused booming voice calls out from the back of the shop as he strides forward, a stack of papers in his hand. Nate chuckles and starts walking away towards Burt after giving Blaine a friendly nod and another shoulder slap. 

 

“Was just making friends Boss.” He says as he passes Burt and ducks out of the way of the playful swat aimed in his direction. 

 

Nate stops, turns and calls out before completely vanishing out of sight “See ya Blaine it was good to meet ya and hope to see ya around here soon, hopefully with K too. You’re doing a great job, you people are making a real difference around here.” And then he’s gone as Burt finally gets to Blaine with a weary look. 

 

You people. Huh.

 

Once back in Burt’s car after buckling up and heading out of the lot onto the road towards the grocery store, Burt fiddles with the car radio buttons, turns it on, switches the station to a sports commentary channel and then lowers the volume. He clears his throat a little as he checks the mirrors and indicates left.

 

“Um Nate’s a good kid, he and his dad have been working for me for years, they’re both loyal, great mechanics and a heep load of fun.” Blaine looks across at Burt from the passenger seat and smiles, nodding his understanding. He’s not quite sure where this is coming from or what he should say. Burt plays with the bill of the cap on his head and continues. “He uh- he came to help out after we um, we lost Finn and then when Kurt left.”

 

Blaine opens his mouth, his eyes softening with sadness as he looks at Burt’s side profile, he doesn’t quite know what to say. He closes his mouth and bows his head a little. 

 

“He knows everything, Nate. All of what Kurt and I have been through, and of course what Carole has had to go through with us by her side. He tries, tries real hard, maybe too hard.” Burt chuckles a bit and Blaine smiles with him, helpless to do much else. “I uh, I campaigned for some stuff you know, years ago, stuff that was/is important to Kurt. Saving the Arts in schools, healthier hospital menus, marriage equality…that sorta stuff you know.”

 

Ah. You people. Of course.

 

Blaine smiles, relaxing back into his seat enough to chuckle a bit. At least some people are trying to help make a change and change with the world. Burt laughs with him, confident that Blaine has got the message he was trying to put across. “Now, the kid walks around wearing my Rainbow pin and thinking that he’s the people’s advocate. His heart’s in the right place.”

 

Blaine nods and smiles, “Good for him, that’s great. Really great actually. It’s nice to have people like that on our side.”

 

“He’s right though,” Burt continues, a little lost in thought, his voice a little low. “I don’t know exactly what it was he was trying to say to you, but he’s right, it is great having you around you know, part of the family and all.” 

 

Burt finishes stiffly but warmly, his gaze shifting slightly from the road ahead to where Blaine is subtly trying to compose himself and keep his unshed tears at bay. 

 

The ride to the store is light and easy filled with tales and jokes from the garage. Blaine shares his barely there future plans for starting on his own personal projects and then fills Burt in on the ‘parent appropriate’ events of his and Kurt’s time in England. 

 

“What made you so special? I’ve been waiting for an invite to that place for years.” Burt teases with a chuckle as he pulls into the store’s small parking lot and gets out, leaving Blaine in the car, for security purposes.

 

*

 

The rest of Saturday is spent in a lovely chilled out manner. Burt and Blaine watch a game in the TV room whilst Kurt leans into Blaine’s side on the couch and reads a magazine, tutting and huffing at random articles. 

 

Carole sits in a rocking chair adjacent to them and rocks softly as she tries to thread a ripped seam in an old blouse back together. Kurt coaches her through it every now and then, sometimes sitting up staring at her and blurting out, “Just let me give you a new one, it’s just a blouse.”

 

“No, it’s my favourite.”

 

“A new one could be your favourite.” 

 

Blaine smiles as the two bicker playfully and doesn’t miss Burt’s contented sigh from over in his arm chair as he sips at his ginger ale. 

 

That evening Burt and Carole are forced to sit at the dining table and allow themselves to be waited on while Kurt and Blaine dance around each other in the kitchen and prepare and serve dinner. 

 

“They’re really something, aren’t they?” Carole muses, tapping her foot against Burt’s under the table and smirking as she side eyes the open kitchen doorway. 

 

Kurt’s giggle rises in pitch and carries over the sound of clanging pots and pans, mixed with the sounds and smells of something bubbling over on the stove and Blaine’s boyish outcries of laughter. 

 

“Yeah, they are.” Burt takes her hand over the table top and smiles back, “they really are, I hope they stay like that.” He adds quietly. 

 

“Like what?” 

 

“Like them. I hope that Blaine stays around so that Kurt will always be this Kurt. I’ve never known him more content. It’s true that money really can’t buy happiness.”

 

“I’m proud of him.” She says softly.

 

“Me too hon, me too.” 

 

Carole squeezes his hand, offers a teary smile and looks up just as Kurt glides into the room, a tray of freshly baked bread rolls in his hand and a suspicious look on his face as he eyes them, with Blaine hot on his heels carrying a serving dish of vegetables.

 

The conversation around the dinner table ranges from the many various sightings of Kurt and Blaine’s city whereabouts, to how Burt and Carole met all of those years ago, to swapping and sharing fond stories of Finn and how he and Kurt were like an odd half version of Bert and Ernie. 

 

By the time the night almost draws to a close and the dishes have been cleared away, they’re back in the den with bottles of beer and glasses of wine. Carole is sitting on the floor on an oversized cushion between Burt’s legs, fingering the cushion’s tassels and moaning about how Kurt and Blaine should have brought Jester with them.

 

Blaine and Kurt are sitting side by side on the couch, pressed up close but obviously still trying to remain as modest as possible, even though every now and then Burt catches Kurt quickly giving Blaine’s thigh a light squeeze, and tries to carry on his current rant about day time soap operas but can’t help but smirk at his son. 

 

When Carole yawns for the fifth time consecutively, Burt pulls her to her feet and after sleepy goodnight hugs all around, leads her out of the room and to the staircase. 

 

Kurt waits until he hears the door leading to the staircase distantly opening and closing again and then he turns and pushes Blaine back into the couch cushions, their lips connecting immediately. 

 

Blaine laughs whilst trying to kiss back as much as he’s receiving them, winding his arms around Kurt’s back and pulling him fully on top of him, their legs tangling and bodies shifting to accommodate the other. 

 

After a short while of lazily trading kisses and soft nips in the empty quiet, as close to G rated as possible -or at least PG- Kurt pulls down a blanket from the back of the couch and covers their still clothed bodies from toe to shoulder, as they lie holding each other, their socked feet rubbing together. 

 

And to Kurt’s utter humiliation, that’s how Carole finds them the next morning as she coo’s and aah’s over them with waiting mugs of coffee. 

 

*

 

The plan for Sunday is for Cooper who had made it back from LA yesterday, to come and pick Kurt and Blaine up from Burt and Carole’s and take them to he and Blaine’s parent’s house in Westerville for lunch. Burt would then come and collect them later that afternoon to drop them back off at the airport. 

 

For the first official introduction, Blaine feels that a few hours are fairly substantial and staying the night just wasn’t going to be an option this time. Next time, yes definitely, maybe. 

 

It’s a nice late morning out, a little cool but dry and bright. Carole perches on her knees in old gardening clothes out on the front lawn, digging at some weeds, whilst Burt walks around with a huge pair of sharp sheers, threatening to cut into some wayward bushes.

 

Blaine and Kurt watch them amusedly whilst sitting on the swinging sofa, from the safety of the front sheltered porch, waiting for Cooper to arrive.

 

“Are you nervous?” Blaine asks quietly, stilling Kurt’s jiggling leg against his knee.

 

Blaine would never make Kurt do anything that he didn’t want to do, he would gently encourage and nudge him into persuasion because he’s Blaine and that’s what he does, but he wouldn’t force Kurt into anything. 

 

But Kurt had agreed to it. Sitting down on their shower seat, with his eyes so wide and clear and sparkling, his cheeks covered with a rush of heat, and his pink wet lips half way around Blaine’s cock, he had simply said. “Like I said, anything for you.” 

 

And then Blaine had immediately came down his throat. 

 

Blaine knows that Kurt is slightly uncomfortable about this, not because he’s unsure about meeting Blaine’s family, he’s just unsure about everything about this situation in general. As much as Kurt has matured and developed in many areas since meeting Blaine, he’s still Kurt. His lovely yet awkward and stubborn Kurt.

 

Kurt smiles weakly over at him and nods, nudging their knees together as he kicks them off into another swing. “A little, but I’m alright. How are you?”

 

“I’m excited you’re going to meet them, it means a lot, but I honestly don’t know what to expect, I mean you already know what Cooper’s like-”

 

As if on cue a black dated sports type car with tinted windows pulls up to the curb outside the gate with a screech of tires and it’s horn blaring rather annoyingly. 

 

The driver’s side window rolls down and hip hop music pours out into the quiet street, until it’s turned down and a voice calls out to them, “Mr and Mr NYC’s Hottest? Your love carriage awaits you.”

 

*

 

The car ride from Lima to Westerville is nothing short of hilarious. Blaine couldn’t really expect anything less, and is only glad that Kurt is laughing with Cooper rather than cringing at him. 

 

It actually makes Blaine feel a little lighter, like the first hurdle is over. Even though Kurt and Cooper vaguely and distantly know of each other anyway, they’re getting on quite spectacularly and nobody’s will to live or self esteem is left hanging in the balance.

 

By the time they’re winding up the Anderson’s grand driveway, Kurt is laughing and blushing at Cooper’s blatant obvious attempts at scoring a job. Blaine smiles away, listening to them with his hand curled around Kurt’s discreetly between them whilst looking out of the window toward the large house coming into view.

 

Cooper parks up in a paved parking spot right outside of the house. He jumps out, flicks open the back door where Blaine is sitting and heads straight towards the house.

 

“Thanks Coop,” Blaine mutters quietly whilst smiling. He gives Kurt’s hand one last reassuring squeeze and after having a quick look out of the window quickly ducks in and places a chaste kiss to Kurt’s cheek. 

 

They climb out of the car together, their hands clasped tightly as they take small steps forward.

 

“Welcome lovebirds to The Anderson’s abode.” Cooper calls out from up front, waving his car key in the air whilst central locking it with a beep and a flash of the headlights.

 

The house is probably the same size as Burt and Carole’s but it just looks fancier, like the house is trying really hard to keep up appearances or something. It’s red brick with white pillars holding up the triangular arched entrance porch with a few steps leading up to it. 

 

Blaine isn’t quite sure what he’s expecting, maybe some sort of a fanfare awaiting them outside but is actually rather glad when he realises that his family (except Cooper, of course) have actually taken on board his request for a low key arrival. They’re already inside the house making their way down the hallway before their arrival is acknowledged. 

 

Inside everything is decorated in dark deep greens and rich reds, with hardwood shiny floors and the distinct smell of furniture polish. It’s lovely and neat and clean, but it screams out that this is a house with a middle aged couple and no children, children who were sent to boarding schools and had no time to create memories here. 

 

Cooper makes his way straight into kitchen which is mostly made up of stainless steel appliances and granite counter tops with black and white marble tiles and flagstones. There must be some sort of spread out on the table because Cooper immediately starts digging in, with his mouth full he shouts back out through the hall, “Oh my god, you guys should come in and try this, this quiche is amazing.”

 

Kurt giggles as Blaine shakes his head, leading him through to the kitchen when a figure hops out into the hallway in front of them from one of the side rooms. “Cooper are you back? Are they here? Get that out of your mouth right now, where are your manners?” 

 

Blaine’s mom, or the lady who Kurt assumes to be Blaine’s mom –she has to be with those eyes and skin tone- fluffs out her dark hair, and straightens out her nice pleated cardigan, as she turns to them smiling brightly.

 

“Oh darling there you are-” Blaine is pulled from Kurt’s grasp and into his moms arms, laughing and patting at her back as he goes. 

 

He pulls back, turns to Kurt and with a proud look, a small grin and gleaming eyes, he says, “Mom, this is Kurt, Kurt Hummel, but you already knew that.” He huffs out an awkward laugh and in the distance Cooper can be heard laughing around a mouthful of something or other. 

 

Mrs Anderson turns to Kurt, holds out a hand towards him and ducks her head gracefully as if he’s Royalty or something. “Lovely to meet you Kurt. Finally.” She says politely.

 

Her face is a picture when Kurt steps forward, takes her offered hand and drops a chaste kiss to the back of it. “Like wise Mrs Anderson, thank you for inviting me here. Your home is very beautiful.” 

 

“Oh please call me Rey.” She blushes, whilst Blaine smirks, looking between the two of them. 

 

I know mom, I know what it’s like to meet him for the first time.

 

“Where’s dad?” He interjects when he realizes that both his mom and Kurt are now just staring at each other, smiling nicely but awkwardly. 

 

“Right here boy.” A voice comes from the staircase beside them, they all look to see a pair of tan suede house slippers stepping down, revealing a pair of brown cord clad legs.

 

“Hey dad, what’s up?” Blaine smiles, stepping forward as Mr Anderson reaches the ground and steps off of the stairs towards them. They reach out to hug each other at the same time, and as they embrace, he peers over Blaine’s shoulder to glance at Kurt.

 

“Hey son,” He says, still looking intently at Kurt. “And you must be the wonderful Kurt,” he adds stepping away from Blaine and over to Kurt with a hand outstretched like Rey had done. 

 

“Dad-” Blaine says in a warning tone, though he’s not quite sure why because his father is actually being perfectly nice. Kurt steps out takes his hand and they shake firmly and friendly. 

 

“That’s me, nice to meet you Mr Anderson, like I’ve just told your wife here, thank you for having me here today.”

 

Mr Anderson stands back, wrapping an arm around Rey’s shoulders who is still smiling, and Kurt takes his place back at Blaine’s side again. 

 

They seem like a sweet couple, both attractive considering their age and well matched. And even though they’re not ‘old’ old they still seem kind of out of place compared to their very chic home. 

 

There’s not a whiff of nerves about Kurt, it must have something to do with the fact that he literally meets new people everyday, he knows how act and how to be in all situations. 

 

Unless he’s just genuinely really comfortable here. Maybe anywhere that has Blaine, Kurt will be comfortable. 

 

“Aah,” Blaine’s dad waves a hand in the air, “The name’s Adrian. And it’s a pleasure. Thank you for coming, I know that Reyna here has been very excited to meet you for some time now. I’ve heard a lot of about you.” 

 

Blaine’s dad is usually a man of very little words and though he’s polite he usually shows very little interest in things that have no concern to him. He had accepted Blaine’s sexuality- eventually- and his and Cooper’s dreams of something that didn’t have to do with numbers or figures, but had then taken a back step was more of background character in their lives than a leading role, like a parent should be.

 

Blaine stares at his dad, a little in awe and can even sense that Kurt is a little dumbfounded too after hearing all about Blaine’s father from Blaine’s perspective. 

 

Before Blaine has a chance to pick his jaw up off of the ground and try to initiate some form of appropriate conversation, Adrian starts gesturing through to the kitchen as he leads the way. 

 

“I hope you’re hungry boys, Reyna’s made a lovely spread for us.” Adrian says as he steps into the kitchen. “Cooper, get a plate for that would you.” 

 

*

 

“Now Kurt, I know you’ll probably have some old family ran organization of financial consultants looking after your accounts, but I just want you to know that my firm has the highest-”

 

“Adrian really?” Rey scolds, as she picks up a platter of finger sandwiches and offers it to Kurt. Kurt, still chewing on something shakes his head no politely, and smiles tight lipped at Adrian, whilst Blaine shakes his head at his father. 

 

This is pretty much how the afternoon goes and has been going since the first meet. Similar topics of conversation are flung at Kurt from both Adrian and Cooper, each time one of them being reprimanded from either Rey or Blaine, or both, whilst Kurt laughs helplessly and offers what ever words he can think of to placate them.

 

Blaine should be a little angry, but honestly he’s not. His dad has never shut up, and he means that in the best way. Talking to Kurt like his tongue is about to get cut off, asking him question after question, like he’s genuinely interested. It’s almost as if he’s fascinated with Kurt, and with who and what he represents. 

 

It should be awkward and embarrassing but it’s just not, and Kurt seems to be taking everything with a pinch of salt. And if he wasn’t already well on his way to scoring brownie points with his family, Kurt had offered to send some freebies over that Rey could donate to her youth group. 

 

Blaine is honestly enjoying every moment of this, it’s easy and feels so natural and he is just so, so surprised and elated. 

 

“So little bro, I forgot to mention this to you, you know my friend Andre?” Cooper calls out over the Anderson’s kitchen table. Blaine looks up at him, and nods as he cuts into a piece of pie. 

 

“Um, the guy who hired you to model for his new company advertisement campaign or something?”

 

“That’s the one,” Cooper grins. “Well he’s setting up a new office in New York, and he’s looking for hot new talent.”

 

Oh. Blaine’s heart melts a little, he looks around the table at his parents who are eating quietly, watching their son’s exchange. “Oh um thanks Coop but, I uh-It’s not for me, not anymore.”

 

“Wait, Andre, I know that name-” Kurt pipes up, but not to anybody in particular, he still seems lost in thought. 

 

“No you don’t understand B,” Cooper interrupts, “He’s scouting for people to work with him, to manage and partner with. He’s looking for producers, people who know how to write and make good music and willing to offer up their expertise-”

 

“Honey he’s right.” Kurt says suddenly, turning to face Blaine excitedly, like a light bulb has just clicked on in his head. Cooper grins brightly, looking around the table, it’s clear that nobody missed the term of endearment that Kurt had just used. Not even Kurt or Blaine themselves.

 

It’s the first time that either of them has used such words for each other, in public anyway, much less around their families. 

 

Blaine gawks back at Kurt, all fish hooked like, the edges of his mouth rounding into a cheeky smile, aiming to reach the corner of his eyes but can’t quite make it. Kurt stares back, in just as much shock and when he realises that the whole table has grown silent, mentally shakes himself back to reality and continues. 

 

“Um-uh, Andre Kahn, we met him briefly last month at that benefit. Nice guy, born into money and uses it for good things. He has his own music label that he’s always trying to expand and develop in different ways-”

 

“Kahn Records, of course.” Blaine says, catching on. Then turns to his brother and says, “Coop you were the face of his label right, when it first opened? You had tiger stripes painted all over your-”

 

“Oh my, Cooper I remember that one-” His mother adds, scrunching up her face whilst picking up a Glace cherry and popping it into her mouth.

 

“Isn’t that photograph framed and up on the wall in your old bedroom Cooper?” His father asks with a half smirk, half grimace. 

 

“Yeah, so anyway,” Cooper turns to Blaine ignoring everyone else, “He called me last week, cause we’ve been in touch ever since and I kissed his cousin for her birthday as a gift from him, and he asked if I knew anyone I could point in his direction. You’re in right? You’ll meet him?”

 

“Oh Coop, I am- uh-”

 

“Of course he’s in,” Kurt interjects, “In fact his assistant contacted us with his details the day after the thing we were at, we just never got round to looking in to it.” Blaine stares back at Kurt as everybody else starts chattering excitedly around them. 

 

Kurt leans in, ducks down to Blaine’s ear and says, “You’ll do it right, you’ll meet this guy? I’ll come with you. Even if it’s just to get an idea of how you go about things, you’ll take this first step right? I’ll take it with you.”

 

He pulls back and Blaine’s eyes are shining, his face flooding with warmth. All he can do is nod weakly, smiling shakily, and it’s then when he notices that everybody else has grown quiet and is watching them.

 

Kurt winks, squeezes his knee then moves back to his sitting position, carefully not making eye contact with anybody. Rey picks at a napkin and tries to disguise a sniffle whilst Cooper continues grinning broadly, scooping up a slice of cake.

 

“Well then,” Adrian says, clapping his hands together once, “That’s four successful, talented, handsome men in this family.” 

 

And Blaine’s jaw almost hits the table. 

 

*

 

When Burt arrives to pick them up later that day, the plan was to just honk the horn when he was outside, but he’s early and Carole is with him. 

 

Everybody’s in the lounge with the drapes closed (because Rey thought that it was considerate.) Kurt is busy giving Rey a direct number to contact him on so that he can connect her with people able to help her with fundraising campaigns for her youth group that she volunteers with. 

 

Adrian is just finishing off telling Blaine and Cooper a humorous tale about an elderly neighbour when the front bell rings. Kurt and Rey don’t even flinch and Blaine just carries on laughing with Cooper while his dad heads out into the hallway to answer the door.

 

Adrian’s voice can be heard, loud and bright as he opens the front door.

 

“Ah Burt, good to see you again, you’re early. Come on in. Oh and Carole here’s too, splendid. Have you time for a drink before you hit the road with the boys?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Oooh haha. Hey everyone, thanks again for the continued support for this story, I hope you liked that chapter. Below is the reason how I found myself a rare slice of spare time and the inspiration to get another chapter up and out to you lovely lot.
> 
> I just wanted to say, that I read something recently regarding reading and reviewing fanfics, and found it very interesting and insightful and I agree with everything that was said.   
> I just wanted to add my little bit to it, if I may. Reviews really do help inspire writers to keep going and just knowing that people are still there and interested and eager for more is a massive boost. 
> 
> Also, speaking from an avid reader POV rather than a writer, I also like to drop reviews on my favourite stories by other talented folk, regardless of being an ff author myself, people deserve to know that you’re enjoying their stories.  
> That being said I know that it is disheartening if you feel like your review is being sidelined, especially the ones where people write full paragraphs explaining their favourite parts, not just a generic same old, same old, or an ‘update soon’.   
> I try to take the time to respond to all of my reviews, because I appreciate them all so much.
> 
> So yeah, I just wanted to say that it is a bit of a give and take situation, if you leave a review it’s more than likely that the writer will continue updating and hopefully respond to your review in return- because that is the polite thing to do.
> 
>  
> 
> Much love and Thanks again : )


	8. Chapter 8

Well this is fucking insane.

 

“Dad, Carole?” Kurt half squeaks/half croaks out with a double take and a hilarious lift of both eyebrows, when his dad and step-mom waltz into the Anderson’s living room behind Adrian.

 

He quickly looks around to find Blaine a few steps away staring at them also, his lips still parted and upturned into a twist from where he was laughing with Cooper just moments ago. His eyes are so wide that it looks almost painful, like they could just fall right out of their sockets. 

 

“Hey kid,” Burt calls cheerfully, smiling at Kurt’s incredulous expression and then chuckling when Cooper –who is positively beaming- shuts Blaine’s mouth with a finger pressed to the underside of his chin. 

 

“Oh Carole, hi.” Rey smiles coming forward to hug the other woman. “I’m glad you’re here, we must talk about our lunch date next week-”

 

The two women carry on chattering like old friends, and behind them Adrian and Burt laugh gruffly at some obvious inside joke.

 

“Ok, what the hell?” Every body turns to look at Kurt who is now standing in the middle of the room, his eyes shifting between the two sets of parents. 

 

With all eyes trained on him, Kurt realizes the need to lower his pitch and calm his tone and clears his throat. “Um, sorry, uh, what exactly is going on here? Why are you here, dad? Do you guys know each other? H-How?”

 

Blaine steps cautiously towards him, coming to stand by his side, and resists the reassuring need to slip his hand through into Kurt’s, though his arm does raise to do so automatically. 

 

Burt slips off his sports cap and scrunches it in his hand, his older crinkly eyes almost disappearing as he grins, and steps forward towards his son.

 

“Came to collect you and Blaine, didn’t we?” 

 

“Dad?” Kurt huffs out, clearly unimpressed and bored and tired of this game already, though his lips are trying to raise at his dad’s amused, playful tone, and telltale expression.

 

“Ok, ok. I don’t think we’re going to be able to keep this up much longer, they’re clearly not up for playing ball-” Blaine’s dad laughs from behind them.

 

“Aw no fun, I could have easily enjoyed a few more minutes of B panicking-” Cooper cries out from somewhere towards the back of the room. Blaine would happily hit him right now if it wasn’t for the fact that he can’t move, can’t take his eyes away from staring at his father.

 

Who is this man? Blaine’s never known his father so energetic and jolly and sociable. And that’s without the fact that he’s just met Blaine’s boyfriend (his famous boyfriend) and is now currently making nice with him and said boyfriend’s family. 

 

Rey shushes her eldest son and then starts gently ushering all of the guests out of the living room. “Come on everyone, let’s fix some drinks and divulge shall, I think we have some leftover cake, unless Cooper has been at it.”

 

“Hey, why always me?”

 

Burt smirks, squeezes Kurt’s shoulders and then leaves the room with Carole in tow, winking and grinning like a blushing teenage girl. 

 

Once everyone has left the room and entered the hallway towards the kitchen with a loud chorus of chatter and laughter, Kurt turns to Blaine, still rooted to the spot, staring helplessly out of the open now empty doorway. 

 

This time Kurt take’s Blaine’s hand and squeezes hard. They look at each other in complete shock and confusion, with some slight worry but there is also a tinge of something else there. Something hidden, softening their gazes and their serious like features. Something very close to relief and wonder and unnervingly like happiness?

 

“What the fuck?” Kurt mouths, silently but clearly. 

 

And if Blaine wasn’t still shocked into statue mode, he would have leaned in and quickly kissed the filth from Kurt’s lips.

 

*

 

“So,” Burt decides to start once everyone is settled around the vast kitchen table, with cups of coffee and tea, and glasses of juice and small china plates of cake and whipped cream. 

 

Cooper has been downgraded to the kitchen island behind them and is stooped over on his bar stool, digging a folk into an untouched bacon and cheese quiche. 

 

“Yeah, so?” Kurt remarks probably a little quicker and cooler than planned. Blaine, who is sitting ramrod straight beside him, squeezes his knee under the table, confident that nobody can see the movement of his arm because of the long white table cloth. 

 

They are a couple, a pair of consenting adults, who are great friends, have grown to trust and care for each other deeply, and have allowed themselves to fall in love with each other over time, no matter how long or short or previous or current the circumstances.

 

Their families know this, everybody knows this. Yet here they are acting like two kids who have just been caught behind the bike sheds with each other and are getting the ‘talk’ for the first time.

 

For Blaine the whole uneasiness and shock value of it all comes down to the fact that his parents (especially his father) have never taken any interest in his romantic life before, yet here they are quite comfortably and obviously best friends with Kurt’s parents. Kurt’s very welcoming, understanding parents. Blaine’s dad had even implied earlier that Kurt was part of the family. What? 

 

It’s amazing and beautiful of course, but what?

 

Everybody appears to just be taking it all in their stride, Everybody apart from Kurt and Blaine, apparently.

 

“So,” Burt continues, shooting his son a warning look, and Kurt shuffles back into his seat like a kid on his last warning before the naughty step rule is introduced. “Here’s what it is. Back when you and I were having our…” Burt pauses, looking at Kurt, clearly looking for the right words to continue.

 

“Quiet phase? Stubborn time? Moment of unnecessary manly awkward madness?” Carole offers and Rey smiles behind her teacup.

 

“Quiet will do. Thanks honey.” Burt says, not quite looking at his wife. “When we weren’t speaking,” Burt rephrases and continues, “Carole had met Blaine and come to know him well after his initial interview and probation period, had told me great you two were together, and so I decided that it was time to start and bury the hatchet so to speak. That’s what started off the process with me turning up at your place unannounced that night.” 

 

Both Kurt and Blaine nod, both ears and eyes wide open with curiosity etched all over their faces. Kurt tentatively sips at a his drink, and Blaine pushes around a chunk of chocolate cake on his plate until Cooper gets up and comes to take it from him. 

 

“I don’t know if you remember me telling you Blaine but that was actually around the time that your father was having some car troubles.” Blaine’s eyes shoot up to the ceiling in thought, his eyebrows knitting together as realisation starts to home in. 

 

Kurt sighs, leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest. He shakes his head slowly, but not unkindly, the corners of his lips are even ever so slightly curling upwards. He eyes everyone around the table carefully, eventually landing his gaze on Blaine beside him, as he twists slightly to look at him properly.

 

The silent message conveyed through the deep stare of both sets of beautifully bewildered eyes fixed upon each other, is terribly obvious. 

 

So Burt somehow, for some reason fixed Adrian’s car, and somewhere amongst that little meet cute they discovered who each other were. 

 

These people who call themselves parents (one half who never seemed to care that much, that often) have actually known and befriended each other for god knows how long. And kept it some sort of secret from their kids, their kids who are dating, more than dating. Their kids who have this huge history together, living both of their personal and professional lives so publically, and their parents thought it would be fun to keep up a little secret joke with them? 

 

“Ok. Facts. Straight up.” Kurt says, it’s not quite a question yet not quite a demand, either way it’s aimed mostly at his father, though he does search the faces of everyone else around the table.

 

Blaine seems to ease up a little beside him, his hands hanging by his sides and his fingers brushing against the outer side of Kurt’s thigh, scratching a nail against the thick rough denim of Kurt’s jeans, hoping that the slight contact is as reassuring to Kurt as he is finding it himself.

 

They’ve enjoyed dressing down this weekend. Well dressing down in terms of getting out of their suits and ties. But their dress sense has still been impeccable compared to Burt’s flannel shirts and oil smudged faded jeans. 

 

“I was travelling through Lima for business and my car broke down,” Adrian starts with a small smirk. “I called up my breakdown service and they told me that the nearest garage was this Tires and Lube place and they would call for a repair truck to come out and find me.”

 

“And you didn’t put two and two together dad?” Blaine asks, not accusingly but certainly curiously. 

 

“To be honest son, and Burt and I have talked about this enough that I feel comfortable enough admitting it now, but no I didn’t. I didn’t know who Kurt was other than what little your mother had been filling me in over dinner. I didn’t know about his family, or anything.” 

 

Because you didn’t care, Blaine thinks. He’s not sad or disappointed, he knew this was the case with his father. His father wasn’t mean or unkind to him, he just wasn’t interested in his life enough to at least act like it. At least up until now.

 

Adrian looks over at Kurt, his eyes a little distant and far off. He offers a small rueful smile, which is blatantly a form of an apology, and to his relief Kurt sends him one back. Kurt has spent enough time making enemies in his past life and he certainly does not want to cause any rifts between his and Blaine’s families. Not that there’s especially any reason to and not after everybody is now back at a place of caring and spending time together. 

 

It’s clear that Adrian is obviously thinking that way too. 

 

“So you guys had already met when you showed up that night in New York?” Kurt asks his dad calmly. Burt nods and a scrape behind them tells them that Cooper is obviously bored of this seemingly civil conversation and has taken his quiche and Blaine’s cake to enjoy elsewhere. 

 

“I went out, worked on his engine, and we had to wait a while for one of the guys to go out pick up a spare part and drop it off. In that time we talked and it didn’t take long for the pieces to slowly slot together for me.” 

 

Rey and Carole share a fond look and their expressions are readable. This is clearly a conversation with only the men needed present. Their facial expressions are clearly those of two women used to living with and being surrounded by sometimes silly and irrational men. And that right now all they actually care about is that their sons are happy and that they can take their tea next door and discuss what the doctor had advised Rey about her evening primrose pills. 

 

When the women get up and leave after Carole has bent down and given Kurt a quick kiss on the cheek and patted Blaine’s cheek lightly, and Rey had sent both boys a reassuring smile- Burt continues and Adrian nudges a plate of biscuits his way.

 

“After that we met up the next night for a beer and-”

 

“And Burt taught me what being a father is really about. Taught me how I should have been doing it all along.” Adrian interrupts. 

 

He squirms a little in seat, looking visibly ashamed but with his head still high, like he knows his wrongs and is ready to right them, and when he catches Blaine’s eye, Blaine feels his throat start to dry up and swell. 

 

Kurt doesn’t hold back, he pushes his hand into Blaine’s, hanging between their legs and threads their fingers together tightly. 

 

“Burt and I swapped numbers and we talked almost every night after that, swapping stories about our sons, our feelings on fatherhood, the right, the wrongs, the ‘I don’t know what the hell to do’s’” All four of them laugh a little at that and Blaine’s heart melts a little. “Then we got the girls involved, and they hit it off right away, so we started meeting up-”

 

“And you kept all of this a secret? Dad I don’t think you’ve ever managed to keep a secret like this ever, not since my tenth birthday party when you’d hired that-”

 

“Yeah, yeah I know. It’s pretty easy when you’re not talking to me kiddo.” Burt says a little sadly though he’s grinning as best as he can manage.

 

He then turns to Blaine. “So I was finding out all this stuff about you from your folks, plus stuff that Carole kept telling me, on top of everything I kept seeing of you two in those awful magazines that Carole gets and on those websites.”

 

“It’s funny,” Adrian chirps, “Because at the same time that Burt was finding out all of this stuff about you, from me, so was I.” Blaine looks between his own father and Kurt’s. He never thought it possible to feel so overjoyed, so warmed from his head to toes through to his very core just by being in the presence of someone else, let alone three someone else’s.

 

“I just needed reminding son.” Adrian adds, his voice thick, looking at Blaine from across the table. The table grows quiet, all men looking at each other with clear watery rimmed looking eyes, coughing and throat clearing. 

 

“You two have a hell of a lot to go through on a daily basis, and you’ve both proven you’re more man than I’ve ever shown to be. No matter your choices, whether other people agree with them or not, that doesn’t take away your credibility and the fact that you’re wonderful people no matter what.” Adrian adds, smiling proudly at Blaine.

 

Burt leans over in his chair and nudges at Kurt’s shoulder, Kurt catches his hand and gives it light squeeze. 

 

“So,” Burt says after a bit more throat clearing (god know what the girls must be thinking next door with all these sounds and thank god Cooper isn’t here,) “That was when I had decided to take the bull by the horns and come and see you kids for myself.”

 

“Why did you not want to tell us about all of this, or what made you think that you couldn’t?” Kurt asks. 

 

“We know how crazy things are for you guys, how busy and how hard it is for you sometimes. We wanted you to be able to initiate when you wanted us to meet. No pressure and all, you know.” Burt says, shrugging a little and looking amongst the selection of biscuits. “Plus we enjoyed making new friends, playing this little game without you guys stressing out about anything.” He finally picks up a ginger snap and smiles as he takes a bite. 

 

Blaine doesn’t think that there will ever be a time when he will not like Burt. And what’s more, he has influenced his father. And right now Blaine likes his father very much. 

 

Blaine can see Kurt smiling out of the corner of his eyes, he can feel him relaxing against him and their palms and fingers that are pressed against each other tingle and tighten instinctually. 

 

“But you didn’t leave it up to us,” Kurt says teasingly, “surprising the shit out of us back then, had nothing to do with us initiating when to introduce you guys to each other.” Blaine giggles and their fingers wiggle together. 

 

“Well I guess you can blame me for that, for just wanting to keep up appearances.” Burt points a finger to himself after licking up the last of the biscuit crumbs.

 

“And it was me who suggested that Burt and Carole come here this weekend, we didn’t want to keep it up too long,” Adrian starts, “You’re mother was very eager to meet Kurt, and officially start the ball rolling.” 

 

Blaine’s heart sinks as he remembers how sad his mother had sounded during their phone call, all along she had known that Carole knew her son very well but couldn’t say the same for herself and Kurt.

 

Just then a cackle of laughter carries from the front room out into the hallway and Blaine’s heart rises in his chest at how happy they both sound, he can even hear Cooper in there with them eating up all of the attention front and center, and his body fills with warmth. 

 

When it’s clear that not a lot more needs to be discussed right now and in this manner, the four of them stand, picking up their drinks and what ever else is left on the table. Kurt gives his father a playful nudge followed by a one armed hug because of the items in their hands, and Blaine steps right up to his dad and throws his arms around him.

 

Words are not always needed at times, and this is one of those times. Sometimes a gesture, a simple touch, a hug can say all that is necessary. 

 

They separate so that Burt can pull Blaine into another one of his skilled sideways hugs, both grinning and Adrian offers Kurt his hand. Kurt takes it happily, shaking firmly with bright eyes and there’s a moment when Blaine thinks they’re both going to go in for a hug. It doesn’t happen even though both of them seem fairly content in each other’s presence, but there’s time yet. There is forever, actually. 

 

The two older men head back out toward the front room to find out what their wives have been up to, leaving Kurt and Blaine standing staring at each other. Some how after pulling apart from their fathers, their hands have managed to gravitate towards each others again and knit together like magnets. 

 

All Blaine can do is shake his head slowly from side to side, grinning widely with their hands swaying between them. Kurt just nods back at him silently, knowing exactly what Blaine is communicating even though it is nothing at all. 

 

Kurt bite’s his lip into a smirk, and his head bobs forward as his eyes dart down to Blaine’s mouth. Blaine leans in, knowing what Kurt is thinking, knowing what both of their bodies need, like there’s some kind of silent beckoning call happening between them.

 

Kurt unravels their fingers, brings his hands up to cup Blaine’s jaw and is just about to grab him and close the distance between their mouths when they hear Cooper shout out obnoxiously and exaggeratingly loud from the next room.

 

“Oh come on, they don’t need privacy in this house too, let’s not be that family. If they wanna make out, they can do it in front of us. Ow! Dad!”

 

*

 

By the time the afternoon is slowly shifting over into evening and the sky outside is a sea of reds and oranges and purples as the sun lowers, Burt insists that they must get going if the boys are going to make their flight on time.

 

There’s a little bit of an awkward silence out in the hallway, with everyone standing in a half semi circle just staring at each other. Burt already has Kurt and Blaine’s luggage in the trunk and Blaine has his satchel with his and Kurt’s necessities strapped to him.

 

It’s sad and weird, kind of like the family that never knew they were a family ready to part ways already and split off into four different directions. Cooper’s flight back to LA leaves first thing in the morning and when Burt and Carole get back to Lima, Burt’s going to be busy with the shop for a while and Adrian has an accountancy conference in Delaware. 

 

And of course Kurt and Blaine will be heading back to their life in New York, already eager to see what’s awaiting them when they arrive. Though they will miss this. This crazy new and wonderful realization. 

 

But now that only means that there will have to be more opportunities to do this, to be like this, all together and comfortable. 

 

Rey starts off the proceedings by swiftly hugging both Burt and Carole, telling Carole that she’ll call her about that Aqua Yoga class and then swoops in and envelopes Kurt in a big hug before he even knows what’s happening.

 

Blaine smiles at the sight and feels his heart thud hard in his chest when he hears his mom murmur into Kurt’s ear, “You’re always welcome here Kurt. You’ll always be safe here in this home, you can trust us, and Blaine knows that too.” 

 

Kurt’s arms tighten around the woman and Blaine wishes he could fit them both into his arms and scoop them up. 

 

Cooper hounds his way into the middle of the group, kisses Carole sweetly on the cheek and then places both hands on Burt’s shoulders and says, “You ever need a pretty face up in that work shop, you know where to find me.”

 

Without much of a pause he then turns to Kurt and bows dramatically in front of him, “And you know where to find me too.” 

 

He straightens and winks as Kurt fishes his business card out of the side pocket of Blaine’s satchel for him and then gives him a hesitant but warm hug. Cooper then takes off up the stairs. 

 

When goodbyes between the two families have been shared Burt heads for the door with Carole on his arm, Kurt turns to both Adrian and Rey and says, “Please do come and visit us in New York sometime, maybe for Thanksgiving, and Cooper too of course.” 

 

There’s a distinct whoop from upstairs, Carole chuckles softly and says, “Ooh maybe we’ll join you then. Oh I can’t wait to see little Jester-”

 

“Oh Blaine’s little homeless cat, you still have that thing?” Rey turns to Blaine, laughing incredulously. 

 

Blaine nods proudly. “He’s half Kurt’s responsibility now, since he insists on feeding him stuff that’s not good for him.” Kurt rolls his eyes fondly. 

 

Carol laughs and claps her hands, cooing, “Oh Reyna you should see them both with him, they’re like the sweetest little fam-”

 

“Ok time to go. See ya folks, thanks for the hospitality.” Burt ushers Carole out of the door, as Kurt follows with his cheeks flushed and Rey is just staring at Blaine, an eye brow raised and endless obvious thoughts running through her head.

 

The Hummel’s pack into the car quickly and quietly and wait for Blaine to say goodbye to his parents with a bit of privacy. 

 

A Handful of short minutes later Blaine exits the house, his cheeks are a little pink and his hair is a mess where his mother’s hands have obviously been trying to pat it down. His eyes are rimmed a little red, but there’s a huge smile on his face and when he gets to the car, Kurt opens the door for him. 

 

Blaine is barely buckled in safely beside Kurt with the door closed as Burt starts pulling off and away.

 

Kurt barely thinks, he pays no mind to his parents in the front of the car when he smacks a messy kiss to Blaine’s cheek, wipes a stray tear from his eye and says as loud as he dares, “Love you.”

 

Carole hiccups and Burt smirks at the passing traffic. 

 

*

 

“I’ve been thinking-” Blaine says as he unties his robe at the waist and hangs it on the hook on the back of the bedroom door, wandering over to the bed in just a grey pair of boxers.

 

Jester watches him lazily from his little bed in the corner of the room. He’s fast and rather cleverly come to learn that three in the bed can sometimes lead to poor little cat injuries and it’s just better to stay in his own bed. Especially when they’re both in that mood, when Blaine whistles and hums as he undresses and changes into his casual leisure wear and Kurt dances around the kitchen as he serves Jes his dinner. 

 

Jes has come to learn little key signs like that and usually retreats to his own room, in the form of Blaine’s old bedroom. 

 

“Uh-oh-” Kurt sing-songs lowly, from his propped up position in bed against the pillows, under the covers. He grins cheekily, with his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose but doesn’t look up at Blaine from the email he’s busy reading on his phone.

 

When his eyes finally do slide over, Blaine loves how wide they get as they travel down Blaine’s body.

 

The bedroom is filled with soft magnolia light from the lamps on the night stands by both sides of the bed, and Kurt’s skin, pale and soft, looks glowing from the effect filtering through the room. 

 

His bare chest is peaking out from behind his arms and the bundle of covers heaped at his waist, and Blaine can’t wait to find what he’s got on underneath, or not got on.  
Sometimes it’s easy for Blaine to forget that behind the suits and the masquerade, that this is them. Lazily flirting in their underwear, sharing a bed at night to warm their skin against the other’s, trying to raise a wayward adolescent feline. 

 

Just ordinary, perfectly normal, wonderful domesticity. 

 

It’s a midweek November night, not too late, not their usual bedtime but they’ve both decided to retire for the night and cosy up under their warm sheets and blankets. 

 

The past weeks gone by have been busy to say the least. 

 

Kurt has recently accepted an offer to join a judging panel for an online competition which encourages amateur designers to send in their drawings and ideas. The winner receives a grant of $200,000 and a full year of professional assistance and work space to get their line under way. With Kurt being one of the ‘professionals’ to help advise and encourage. The campaign will be well publicised and has already been ranted about with boatfuls of positivity within the fashion world. 

 

Kurt is very excited about it, it’s different and will be somewhat challenging but it’s exactly in the direction in which he wants to head with his career. Opportunities that keep his head above water and still in the game, unique circumstances that continue to ensure his work and willingness to help the underdogs are recognised. 

 

Blaine is also very excited about Kurt’s new opportunity, and because of this he will be working harder within the other areas of the business, so that Kurt can breathe a little easier. 

 

Together they make quite the team, that’s been made certain, but now with both of them starting to focus on more individual aspects, it’s time to start proving that they can focus on more than just each other and their combined schedules.

 

With Kurt’s encouragement and Cooper’s incessant bugging (though he calls it gentle reminding), Blaine did in fact call Andre Kahn about a possible new business venture, and the two had apparently hit it off right away.

 

They’re not rushing into deals or contracts right away but they’re meeting up, discussing things and simply getting to know each other, learning where each other are at and how they can divide and maximise their skills between them to create something really great. 

 

It’s clear to both Blaine and Kurt that Andre is a humble, well rounded, well to do guy, who quite possibly just wants to make friends and help people. He’s not after a monkey to run around doing all of his work, or an apprentice to boss around. He’s just after someone worthy enough to have belief and faith in, somebody’s who’s a real go-getter. Somebody exactly like Blaine. 

 

“Hush you,” Blaine grins, folding back the duvet and sliding in, turning on his side to face Kurt with his head propped up an elbow.

 

“What were you thinking dear?” Kurt says, shutting down his phone screen and placing it on the night stand beside him, and then quickly turning to add, “Did you read that email by the way? From-”

 

“Yeah,” Blaine interjects, “I already forwarded it on to the appropriate departments, and I’ve made a note of it in our diaries also.” 

 

He grins when Kurt turns and imitates his position, picking up his hand and placing a kiss to his knuckles. “You’re so efficient. Now go on, tell me what you were thinking?” 

 

“That’s why you hired me,” Blaine quips, moving in to catch Kurt’s lips before he can pull away again. “And I was thinking that, when we go back to Andre’s office tomorrow, after the meeting we could maybe head out for a late lunch and celebratory drinks.”

 

Kurt smirks, clearly intrigued and shuffles forward, his body rustling under the sheets closer to Blaine. Instinctively Blaine’s arms under the covers reach out for Kurt, his fingers curling around Kurt’s bare hip, just above where the tight elastic band of his snug underwear are sitting.

 

“Our diaries are pretty much empty for the rest of the afternoon,” Blaine continues lowly, his eye lids drooping into slits as his eyes both dark and bright land on Kurt’s lips. “Whatever is in there, I’m sure could be moved to another day-”

 

“Mr Anderson,” Kurt’s eyes are twinkling in the shadows of the night lamp behind him, his voice deep and rough. “Are you suggesting that I play hooky with you tomorrow?”

 

Blaine bites his lip and nods coyly, “Mr Hummel, with all due respect, sir,” Something twinges hot deep down and he just knows that Kurt feels it too. “You love that place around the corner from Andre’s office, the one that looks out on to the Hudson, we could go for a walk along the water-”

 

“Mr Anderson,” Kurt whispers, his tongue dipping out and down to wet his pink lips, “Are you trying to lure me on a date?”

 

Blaine’s whole entire face lights up with delight. They’ve never actually had a date, like a real one, not intentionally anyway, where they don’t have to hide or act.

 

“Yes.” Blaine whispers back. “That’s exactly what I’m tying to do.” 

 

Kurt giggles slightly at the look on Blaine’s face and can’t keep up the pretence anymore. He wiggles down and rolls himself forward so that there is no longer any space left on the mattress between them, his lips pressing straight to Blaine’s throat.

 

“Yes. I would love that.” Blaine wraps his arms tighter around Kurt, his hands moving down slowly to rest above the swell of Kurt’s ass cheeks. He sighs deep and blissful and Kurt feels the movement against his lips. 

 

“And just so you know,” Kurt continues to press whispered words against Blaine’s warm skin, “Efficiency is not the only reason I hired you.”

 

“Oh?” Blaine’s tone is humoured and a little cracked and Kurt knows that he’s quirking an eyebrow though he can’t see it.

 

“Yes oh,” Kurt kisses down Blaine’s chest, “Roughly forty-two and by my estimations, we have around forty-two days left until Christmas.”

 

“That’s quite the countdown.” Blaine muses, moaning and squeezing his eyes shut when Kurt’s lips suck the soft thin skin around his belly button, his teeth grazing the light spatter of hair neatly lined there.

 

“Tis. You remember Christmas right? What we did, what we started?” Kurt’s voice is so low and rasped.

 

“Yuh-huh.” Blaine’s hips thrust up as Kurt takes the elastic of his boxers between his teeth, as he crawls down further under the covers, his head almost disappearing, and his nose pressing firmly to Blaine’s pubic bone.

 

“And I intend to show and remind you of exactly why I hired you up until then.” 

 

“Yes sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Thank you all for everything : )


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Sorry that this chapter took a little longer than usual to get out, it’s also a bit longer than typical, but after a lot of thinking and fleshing out about how I wanted this chapter to go, I decided that it had to be just right, and to be able to start off the slope towards the end of this story nicely.
> 
>  
> 
> It’s time for our boys to take a step further outside of their little world and get a little brave. I hope ya’ll like the ‘date’ that you all seemed so excited for ;) thank you as ever.

Andre Kahn’s office up on the seventh floor of a high rise river-view building, is actually like a warm beige and light beech wooded spacious den of pure gooey warm goodness.

 

There’s no way that one person can be so awesome, and an office and studio filled with recording equipment and glass cases can feel so homey. 

 

There are photographs hung and propped up all around, pictures of Andre with previous clients and beloved colleagues. Photographic memories of vacations with Andre and his family and friends, and what appears to be Andre standing slap bang in the middle of a group of smiley kids in a small dusty village with huts and mud houses that looks like nowhere that can be found in New York.

 

Even his secretary (funnily enough not a twenty something blonde with highly ambitious dreams) but a wonderful woman in her mid fifties, who kind of reminds you of that one elderly neighbour that everybody loved who handed out candy and baked treats on a regular basis.

 

Andre’s assistant, a young apprentice was granted this position as an honorary scholarship- after his mom’s muscular cancer had returned any available money had gone straight into the treatment and rehabilitation fund- whose heart warming story about a kid who just wanted to make music to help heal the world had really dug deep within Andre’s soul. 

 

Both Kurt and Blaine are calm here in this space with these people. They can be themselves or at least very close to what is themselves, they know this place well now and feel at ease here.

 

Although these meetings have been for Blaine’s own personal endeavours he had always asked ever so politely if Kurt could accompany him along, and Kurt being Kurt never thought about declining the invite, not once.

 

Kurt usually lounges back in a comfy worn leather wing chair in the corner, looking down at his phone in his hand and trying not to smirk too obviously at the easy chatter coming from Blaine and Andre over by the desk.

 

Kurt has been very close but not yet indulged himself in standing up, crossing the room and rubbing a hand over Blaine’s shoulders and through his hair. Or kneeling by his side, placing a kiss on his cheek and squeeze his hand reassuringly whilst he and Andre discuss lyrical matters.

 

Andre of course knows exactly what Kurt and Blaine’s positions in each others lives –both personally and professionally- are, but that doesn’t mean that Kurt feels the need to throw himself onto Blaine in somebody else’s company.

 

Kurt is still getting there, he’s still working on opening himself up to the rest of the world- and by himself he of course means Blaine too. Because Blaine has of course irrevocably become a part of him, inside and out, whether he they had chosen for that to happen or not. 

 

But again, that is something that Kurt would still like to keep just for him. If it was up to him Blaine would be just for him all day everyday. Kurt wouldn’t let him leave the condo to the onslaught that the world holds for him on a daily basis. He’d kindly dispose him of his PA duties and keep him as a stay-at-home boyfriend, a boyfriend who will draft up his boring emails, a boyfriend who may be open to the idea of being barefoot and in the kitch-

 

Ok so you get the point of what Kurt wants for Blaine. But the thing is Kurt cares for Blaine too deeply to vocalise any of that. The point here is that Blaine is too special and talented and much too lovely to keep hidden away. He’s got a lot left to do in this world, an awful lot more to share, and Kurt is eager to help and contribute towards that.

 

And so, that is why Kurt is here with him right now, because it’s for Blaine and for Blaine he would do anything, because Blaine deserves the exact same treatment and understanding that he has shown him over the past year.

 

And of course love. Let’s not forget the element of love in all of this. 

 

“So Blaine,” Andre calls out happily as he follows both Blaine and Kurt out of his office and into the small nicely furnished lobby- which is also happens to be empty, because knowing Kurt was coming along today Andre wanted the two to feel comfortable and relaxed. 

 

They all walk together towards the elevator, waving at Mrs Bonham at the front desk, she wiggles her fingers back at them talking softly into her headset. 

 

Andre claps Blaine on the shoulder as they call for the elevator and stand to wait. “You know where I am, you have my number, my email, everything you need. You know what I want. So when you know what you want, call me up or come down, whatever and we’ll you know…get started, we’ll jam… play.” 

 

Andre makes his fingers wiggle in the air like he’s playing an invisible keyboard and shoots both Kurt and Blaine a wide grin.

 

Andre is forty-something with short black hair flicked up into gelled spikes, with slight silvery-greys washed through. He has lovely dark olive skin, bright green youthful eyes and has been married to his high school sweetheart for most of his adult life. He and his wife fostered children for many years and now live with their two collies. Andre has this uncanny penchant for making anybody smile back to him when he flashes that toothy grin- no matter of mood or circumstance.

 

Blaine grins at him, his cheeks flushing. Apart from he-himself Kurt guesses that Blaine’s never really felt sought after or wanted –in this way, for his talent- before, but Kurt is of course the exception to the rule.

 

Andre’s face lights up at Blaine’s excited reaction and his gaze travels across to Kurt stood primly at his side. His mossy flecked wrinkled eyes soften as he looks between the two. 

 

“It’s always wonderful to see you too Kurt, you know if you ever wanted to design anything for me that would be totally great also.” Andre’s teasing tone and matching innocent/cheesy grin is just too much to ignore or not to like. 

 

Kurt actually thinks that this guy could be an older version of Blaine, all friendly and charming and just nice. 

 

Andre had came to meet Kurt and Blaine for the first time during an event they were all at, there had been a brief introduction and shake of hands but nothing exactly formal. Though, the truth had poured out of Andre eventually over a coffee and muffin meeting one morning- that Andre had indeed been quite the fan of the pair for some time beforehand.

 

His wife just so happens to be a magazine editor and one with a very tasteful eye for fashion, and also someone very willing to fill her husband in on the glamorous ins and outs. 

 

Andre had been at Kurt’s opening night for the ‘Mr and Mr’ clothing line, and had witnessed Blaine wooing and wowing the crowd with his moves and vocals, and expert playing. From that night Andre had his sights set on Blaine and after a little research had happily discovered that he had his opening by way of Cooper Anderson. 

 

Andre had stood back and watched the two from a distance, that night. Watching the way Kurt and Blaine interacted with each other, even when they weren’t technically interacting. They could talk with their eyes and express with just a tilt of their heads or graze of their hands. They’re quite compelling to watch and on that night only a chosen select few had been invited to come long and witness the connection the two have for themselves. 

 

Kurt shoulder nudges Blaine fondly as they both nod and smile in Andre’s direction. Blaine laughs, “Will do Andre, thanks for your time, once again. Speak to you soon. For sure.”

 

To their delight they find the elevator empty and ride down to the ground floor together in a soft silence filled with the lapping of gentle kisses and deep rumbled laughter. Blaine blinks his eyes open and watches Kurt’s lips work against his slowly in the mirrored back wall of the elevator, smiles into the kiss and nips at Kurt’s bottom lip with his teeth. 

 

“Watcha smiling at?” Kurt whispers with a smile of his own in his voice, bumping his nose alongside Blaine’s. 

 

“M’just happy.” Blaine murmurs, tilting his head to kiss Kurt more deeply, but then to his dismay Kurt hums and pulls back, just so.

 

“Good. Glad to hear it. Care to share?” Kurt’s voice is pitched lower than usual, licking and biting over his lips and Blaine just doesn’t know where to start, however the elevator starts to slow to a halting stop and sings out its arrival to the ground floor.

 

The doors slide open and a small gaggle of people all dressed in dull brown and grey suits enter without even looking up from their cell phones, grumbling as Kurt and Blaine slide past them and out towards the main exit. 

 

Once outside Kurt looks up and down the street, burying his nose down into his woven scarf tucked into his grey and black leather pea coat. After silently deciding that the coast is mostly clear and nobody who would pay them any interest is milling around, Kurt loops his arm through one of Blaine’s. He just feels too close to him right now, too connected- not to.

 

“So what about this date I’ve been promised then huh?” Kurt murmurs quietly, smirking whilst not quite looking back at Blaine as they start walking in step down towards the river.   
“Lunch?” He asks with a magical lilt to his voice.

 

Blaine frees his hand from his own coat pocket and pats Kurt’s hand which is tucked nicely into the crook of his elbow, whilst he hums fondly. 

 

“Oh lunch is just the start of it.” He grins, voice full of deep heated promise and joy.

 

*

 

“Moet? With lunch?” Blaine asks as their waiter hurries away from the booth with their order. There’s a look of happiness and humour combined etched on his face as he looks across the small cherry wood table to Kurt, an eyebrow raised in question. 

 

“We’re celebrating.” Kurt nudges his foot underneath the table playfully. 

 

This is one of their favourite restaurants along the Hudson- a quaint little Italian with a modern build and feel to it. It’s small and quiet yet not too invasive, and both Kurt and Blaine know that while there is a chance they may get recognised, they wont be bothered here, not today. 

 

Their booth is dug down into a little step into-pit in the corner behind coloured-glass panelled windows- which ultimately causes a kind of invisible barrier of privacy and slight intimacy between them and the rest of the restaurant. There’s a whole row along the back of little booths like these, ideal for private parties, intimate get-togethers and dates, of course. 

 

It’s one of the reasons why Kurt loves this place, you’re able to dine in peace, and the fact that it’s just after two in the afternoon and most lunch goers are now on their way about their business, means that the place is almost deserted accept for them and a few other small tables of unconcerned patrons scattered around. 

 

“I thought we were on a date.” Blaine inches the leather sole of his shoe up the inner side of Kurt’s ankle, brushing past his silk lined socks, not even caring that Kurt will complain about the scuff marks later on.

 

“We’re doing both.” Kurt looks like he’s about to say more, with his pretty pink pouted lips twisted into a smirk and his eyes positively sparkling under the romantic ceiling lighting- but presses his mouth closed as their waiter returns with a pop of the cork and bends at the waist to fill their glass flutes from the dark green full bodied bottle. 

 

When they’re alone again and Kurt has sampled the champagne, Blaine takes a sip from his glass, twirls it in his fingers so that the bubbles slosh up the sides of the glass like waves. “Celebrating what?”

 

Kurt scoffs. “What do you mean what? You know what. You. Your rising new -but not only- career.” He adds for good measure, a smile rounding the edges of his lips. “We’re celebrating everything that you’ve achieved and accomplished.” Kurt’s voice cracks off ever so slightly at the end and Blaine swallows hard. “I’m so happy and proud of you Blaine.”

 

Blaine blushes, hides a sniffle by taking a quick sip from his glass. Damn bubbles. “Oh come on Kurt, it’s not that much of a big deal, it’s still early days, very early days if you’re talking about this Andre thing. And it’s not like I wouldn’t be where I am right now without you. I have you to thank for everything Kurt,-.” 

 

Blaine’s blabbering is cut off by Kurt’s finger suddenly pressed to his mouth, Kurt’s eyes bright blue and starry gray staring deeply at him, as he suddenly hunches over the booth, as close to Blaine as the table will allow. If Blaine inched in just a little then he’s pretty sure their foreheads could meet. 

 

“Enough.” Kurt hushes him quietly, a wide grin on his face. “Let’s not talk, let’s just… enjoy?” 

 

Blaine’s eyes flick around to the restaurant beyond the glass panels that separates the others from their little romantic dug-out, and when they land back on Kurt he presses a soft kiss to Kurt’s finger tip.

 

“Ok. Please, lets.”

 

*

 

“Oh my god, here try this, it tastes like sex.” Blaine giggles and looks around to make sure there’s nobody passing who could have heard and then turns his face to Kurt- Kurt who after the appetizers had been cleared away had decided to switch sides and join Blaine on his little bench, pressed close thigh to thigh, grinning like teenagers as they clink their flutes together. 

 

“Oh god, that’s delicious.” Blaine mumbles, sliding his lips away from Kurt’s fork, just catching his eyes as his pupils start to darken. “You’re right it does. Not better though. I would say.”

 

“Oh I never said better.” Kurt blinks, puts his fork down on the side of his plate and picks up his glass, smirking as the bubbles hit his tongue.

 

Blaine loves when Kurt gets like this, a little loose and slightly uncaring of the world around him. He figures that they should order two bottles of sparkling wine with lunch more often. 

 

During the first course they were able to talk a little about Blaine’s thoughts and feelings from the meeting with Andre, and hadn’t really come up with a conclusion other than Blaine was fairly fucking excited and a little nervous to say the least. But he was more than likely definitely going to take Andre up on his offer of a trial period of the two of them working together and seeing what happens.

 

Blaine had gulped at the thought. He remembers what happened the last time he had been offered a trial period- vividly. 

 

He remembers the way he felt when he opened up Kurt’s letter that he’d left for him that morning on his desk. And then the way his body had sang from his toes upwards at the realisation of what the letter had meant. The probationary period was over –early- and Kurt was inviting him as a permanent fixture into his life with all of its glory. 

 

Blaine had kindly shrugged off any other of Kurt’s questions that he’d had for him regarding Andre’s offer. He knew that they would talk about it another time, in detail, over and over. 

 

Right now Blaine had more important things he wanted to focus on. Right now, he was on a date. His first real date with Kurt, and god just how crazy does that sound?

 

Kurt picks his fork back up off of his plate and demurely sucks a drop of sauce from one of the silver prong, his eyes piercing blue and darkening, looking right at Blaine. 

 

And oh was Blaine going to focus entirely on the fine specimen by his side. 

 

*

 

“We could get desert to go?” Blaine all but squeaks.

 

“And why would we do that?” Kurt answers, eyeing up the fancy desert menu in his hand and not giving Blaine any attention at all. All the while finger-scooping a strawberry out from his glass that he’d picked from the bunch he’d ordered earlier for their drinks, and sucking it between his lips. 

 

“Because honestly?” Blaine rasps, his eyes following the path of red juice trailing along Kurt’s lips. “Without out being able to say it any less bluntly, I’m about to pop a boner in my pants, right here in this very fine establishment and I believe it would be frowned upon if I did so.”

 

A shadow of a smirk passes over Kurt’s face but he tries his damndest to keep it at bay. “I wouldn’t frown upon it-”

 

“I’m sure you wouldn’t.”

 

“Come-ooonn, we’re on a date Blaine.” Kurt finally cracks. “Woo me, show me your best material.” Kurt grins, fingering the crease of the desert menu as he leans back against the plum coloured leather padded benches.

 

Blaine watches him for a few silent seconds, watches the way he tips his head back against the wooden ledge of the bench, watches how his hair ruffles and falls slightly out of place, how his face relaxes with contentment. 

 

Blaine blows out a deep steadying breath and moves his hand which has been gripping tightly at the curved edge of the leather padded bench, sliding it so that his fingers graze against Kurt’s thigh. He leans in close, parting his lips, just about ready to say something which may not be entirely inclusive as first date etiquette but then pulls back as the waiter swoops back into their section, his electronic pad and pen ready to go in his hands.

 

“Have we decided on a desert? May I recommend the Key Lime pie, its certainly scrumptious?” 

 

*

 

“Unless you’re wanting to make a spectacle of yourself then I suggest that you don’t stand up on our table and serenade me.” Kurt says thoughtfully, whilst trying to disguise his grin around his spoonful of New York Millionaire cheesecake.

 

Blaine swallows his mouthful of pie (he went for the key lime with added chocolate flakes) and laughs. “Well that’s it I’m out of ideas then.” He places his fork down on his plate now scattered with crumbs and cocoa sprinkles and throws his hands up in the air dramatically. “I don’t do this sort of thing, I don’t know how.” He gestures a finger between himself and Kurt. “The last time I tried I was in high school and I sang an inappropriate song in the middle of a highly respectable clothing store.”

 

Kurt barks out a laugh, covers his mouth with his hand and reaches for his napkin. After he’s dabbed it neatly around his mouth a few times he reaches for his glass and lets the bubbles slide down his throat. When he turns back to Blaine his features are schooled into pretend seriousness. “Well I have to say that I’m a little jealous, that you gave some guy your best moves and won’t do the same for me.” 

 

Blaine gapes at him and as he looks up just over Kurt’s head, he manages to catch a server’s attention. He gestures with his hand up the air and mouths something that resembles the fact that he wants the check, moving his hand up Kurt’s leg and up to his shirt clad side. 

 

He squeezes Kurt’s waist underneath the silk of his jacket and leans in to whisper in his ear, “Oh believe me you’ve already seen all of my best moves, and there are some more about to come your way.”

 

*

 

“You’re not taking me home now are you?” Kurt asks as they get outside onto the sidewalk, the fresh air rising from the water down beside them is cool on their skin and sort of welcoming after a couple hours spent eating rich food and sipping champagne in the heated indoors.

 

Blaine looks back at him, wills his heart to calm at what Kurt had just said. Home. It’s not like it’s not the truth, but there’s just something about the way hearing Kurt say that word to him. 

 

“You have other ideas?” Blaine asks.

 

“Oh yes. I was hoping that you might also.” Kurt’s sly smile is infectious, “Oh come on, you’re just gonna wine and dine me and then expect to get me into bed?” 

 

The area is quiet around them, the sky already darkening with a deep and dull November blanket. Kurt strides in front of Blaine by a couple of steps and Blaine can see the way he’s sashaying his hips effectively under his coat- all for Blaine’s sake of course. 

 

With a slight shake of his head, Blaine trots up behind him, places a hand on the small of his back and guides him up the walkway towards a lining of various restaurants, cafes and bars.

 

*

 

“I have a feeling that we’re maybe going to have to continue playing hooky again tomorrow.”

 

“And why is that?” Kurt says, trying not to laugh at the look on Blaine’s face as he sips his Old-Fashioned. 

 

By way of answer Blaine simply holds up his glass and takes a big gulp.

 

The cocktail bar they’re at is fairly new, they’d never heard of it before and with it being a late November midweek afternoon, it’s also fairly quiet. The table they’re sat at is high up, looking out onto a full clear glass wall which reflects the late afternoon sunlight twinkling down onto the waters surface outside.

 

This is probably not what either of them had in mind when the word ‘date’ was brought up. However there was more chance than any, that they be would seen at a movie theater, and to be honest going to the movies for a first date- after they’re history is just boring. They’d already had a lovely meal and they weren’t appropriately wrapped up to be walking around somewhere for hours in this current temperature. 

 

This is just so them, out of context and a little weird and different. Different is what they do though, different is ultimately how they work. Being different is what makes them so good, so connected. 

 

As silly and strange as it may seem, getting wasted in the day time hours appears to be exactly what the two of them need right now, to help release any residual steam and with the lovely douse of alcohol to help ease them into a more relaxed state of not caring- though still coherent enough to be in some state of control. And if things go pear shaped- Sam’s only a phone call away. 

 

“Oh I don’t know about that.” Kurt replies as he sips from his own glass, he thinks that he asked for a Manhattan because that’s the first thing he read on the chalkboard when they first walked in, but now he thinks that Blaine may have ordered him something a little sweet and delicious but stronger. 

 

The alcohol tastes a little sour on his tongue, strong but not over-powering. “And since when did ordering your dates something a little stronger, become date etiquette?”

 

“Since I realised what great fun we’re having.” Blaine replies fumbly, scooting adorably closer, as close as his stool will allow him to shuffle over to Kurt without falling off. “Since I realised that a little liquid courage can’t really hurt anyone.” They both take a sip. “Since I realized that the flush on your cheeks and the twinkle in your eyes right now is just…damn.” Kurt swallows hard and Blaine’s eyes drop to the bob of his Adam’s apple.

 

Kurt glances over to the bar area, Blaine follows his eye line. There are a couple of women dressed in pencil skirts and blouses, tucked into a booth in the corner and seemingly entirely too engrossed in whatever the office gossip was that afternoon to look away from each other and up from their fish bowls. 

 

Apart from Kurt and Blaine, the ladies, and the friendly bar tender who seems bored out of her mind as she polishes the glasses that’s hanging from up above on the wooden racks- there is nobody else in the bar. There appeared to be no recognition on the girls face when she served Blaine the drinks and glanced over at Kurt, who had been sitting eagerly awaiting his return. 

 

Kurt starts sipping at his drink again rather demurely, with a look in his eyes that Blaine knows exactly how to read.

 

Blaine rather eagerly starts to make quick work of his own drink, encouraging Kurt to do the same with a tilt of his finger to his glass. Kurt regards him carefully, eyes hooded and glazed, and it’s one of those moments when a flood of words are passed silently between them.

 

Blaine knows Kurt well enough by now, knows his limits and dug down deep desires even when Kurt can’t actually articulate them. He knows when to push and when not to, knows what Kurt needs from him even before Kurt knows himself, mostly down to the fact that it’s usually exactly what Blaine needs for himself also. 

 

After a beat, and a deep stare into each other’s eyes, spiralling into further wordless communication, Blaine reaches out over the table, curls two of his fingers around Kurt’s and pulls him from his stool as they slide out from the table.

 

“Phase three? Home now?” Kurt asks quietly into Blaine’s ear, tucked into his side with small stumbled steps, one hand placed on his elbow and one hand on his back, leading him forward.

 

“Not quite.” Blaine answers, pushing through the first set of doors towards the exit. 

 

Before they reach the double doors leading them to the sidewalk, Blaine quickly turns to the left, jerking Kurt’s arm along with him and doesn’t stop until they’re both now on the inside of the locked men’s room door.

 

Kurt finds himself pressed up against the dark wooden door, quickly taking in the sights around him as Blaine’s lips work up and down his throat, his fingers swiftly undoing the first top two buttons of his shirt collar- thank god they had vetoed ties today. 

 

The bathroom is nice, it’s all tiled with neutral earthy colours and there’s a strong smell of lemon scented disinfectant hanging in the air, which strangely makes Kurt feel a little more comfortable about doing what he thinks he’s going to end up doing in a matter of moments. 

 

“Blaine-” Kurt rasps, head thrown back against the door, hair ruffled up in all directions. Blaine presses himself flush up against Kurt’s body, whining in his throat at the feel of Kurt’s rapidly growing hard on rubbing up against his. 

 

Blaine had been pretty much rock hard ever since leaving the restaurant, there’s no secret about that anymore. 

 

“Ssshhh,” Blaine breathes into the warm hollowed skin of his neck, fingers starting to glide downwards over his shirt landing on his belt buckle, his thumb playing with the dangly metal piece of Kurt’s zipper. “It’s ok, please, I’ll be real quick, let me do this for you, please?”

 

Blaine whimpers more to himself than anything as he pulls Kurt’s pants open and runs a finger along the waistline of his briefs. 

 

“Oh-oh god-” Kurt grits through his teeth as Blaine’s finger traces the outline of his covered cock, lips still sucking into his skin, now up by his ear. “I can’t believe you-that we’re- oh god. Do it. Do it now, hurry.” Kurt babbles and Blaine wastes no time in unsheathing Kurt from his underwear and grips him tightly.

 

Kurt chokes on his groan that he tries to swallow down, eyes clenched shut as Blaine’s fist starts pumping his dick up and down, his wrist flicking and twisting perfectly. 

 

It’s hot and dry and tight and perfect, but Kurt won’t come like this, no matter how hard and ready he is, and Blaine knows that.

 

Without breaking contact Blaine leans back and with his free hand pumps a squirt or two of hand moisturizer from the wall dispenser into his palm. He’s back to Kurt within moments and grins at the sound of Kurt’s choked off half pant/half moan when Blaine massages the lotion around his cock, hard and fast.

 

The sounds that Kurt is making, rumbling deep from his chest and his throat -though still as quiet as possible- are exquisite and strives Blaine on, more and more, up and down, around and around, tight, tight, tight.

 

Blaine starts kissing up from Kurt’s ear, along the edge of his jaw line, over his cheeks and presses open mouthed wet, heated kisses to Kurt’s lips, as his thumb breaks formation and glides upwards, slipping over the swollen head of Kurt’s cock.

 

Kurt’s hips push forward, sliding himself up through Blaine’s fist and back again, with rapid untimed precision and Blaine knows that he’s close, so unbelievably close. 

 

“Come on,” Blaine whispers against his lips, his hand scorching against Kurt’s throbbing cock as he rocks him into oblivion. “Come on Kurt, that’s it, yeah sweetheart.”

 

Kurt gasps into his mouth, hips jerking forward and Blaine is just about to mentally kick himself for throwing in a pet name at a rather uncalled-for time, but it seems to have worked just the trick.

 

They hadn’t discussed the whole topic of pet names and term of endearments, neither were actually sure if it was something that they would do. Although after Kurt had let that adorable little ‘honey’ slip out back in Ohio -and in front of Blaine’s family no less-, the whole gravity of saying something sweet and heartfelt just seemed to crumble away. 

 

It just seems right, like everything else with them does, after needing time of falling into place. Everything always feels right with them.

 

Blaine swallows hard, nips at Kurt’s bottom lip and goes in for the kill, with his fist now flying over Kurt’s cock, his thumb teasing through the slit and spreading tiny pearls of pre-come around. “Yeah sweetheart, you like this, I know you do. Just you and me.” 

 

Kurt gasps again, louder, harder, rutting with every one of Blaine’s whispered words and flicks of his thumb and wrist. Blaine slips his tongue between Kurt’s lips, tightens his grip around his dick. “That’s it baby, come for me. Come in my hand.”

 

Kurt explodes. Sobs into Blaine’s mouth and Blaine manages to swallow his cries down with kiss after kiss as Kurt comes hot and wet over his fist. At first Blaine’s plan was to sink to his knees and take Kurt in his mouth to catch all of the mess, but after feeling the vibration course through his body, Blaine knew that it was more important to take care of the noise aspect first.

 

When Kurt is spent, softening in Blaine’s hand and whimpering brokenly into his mouth, Blaine leans back again but this time comes back with a hand wrapped in a roll of paper towels. 

 

He cleans Kurt up, disposes of the soiled tissues, tucks him back into his underwear and zips up his fly, winking and even patting at his hip cheekily when he’s done. 

 

“What about you?” Kurt breathes, cheeks flushed so fucking prettily, finally stepping away from the door towards Blaine. His eyes bright blue and crystal clear, making no secret that their looking down at Blaine’s now very tight trousers. 

 

“Oh I’m not done with you yet. But don’t worry I’ll wait.” Blaine smirks, pulling at himself over his pants, even un-tucking his shirt to pull down over his crotch until he can get his coat back on- because that doesn’t just scream out what’s been going on. 

 

They quickly and quietly exit the bathroom to find with relief that there is nobody waiting around outside the door, and leave the bar sliding on their coats and wrapping their scarves around their necks as they unhook them from the coat stand.

 

Out on the side walk, the cool breezy spray from the water’s edge hits the flushed skin of their faces welcomingly, and Blaine grins to himself, smug and proud as Kurt pulls out his phone to text Sam. 

 

“This is what you do on your first dates?” Kurt says lowly, turning to face Blaine after he’s pocketed his phone. “God, what have I been missing out on?”

 

Blaine smiles, even chuckles a bit, and steps forward into Kurt’s space, “No, not first dates. Only Kurt dates.” Kurt’s face lights up and Blaine really wishes that they weren’t standing in the middle of a public sidewalk right now. 

 

Sam couldn’t come for them quick enough. 

 

“And you haven’t been missing out on anything.” Blaine adds, looking at Kurt very carefully willing him to feel every word that he’s saying to him, “Everything I do, in some way, is for and because of you.”

 

*

 

December sweeps its way through the city with harsh gusts of ice cold winds and flurries of snow and sleet, all of that mixed with the cheery jingle of familiar festive tunes playing loudly in every single store and the bright beam of multi-coloured lights flashing everywhere you look. 

 

This time of year is busy for anybody really, but for two people with public profiles, busy schedules –both shared and individual- an array of places to be, people to see and things to do, its absolute chaos.

 

By the time the holiday season is closing in, work places are slowly starting to wind down and schools are closing for the winter break- Kurt and Blaine are just about ready to fall asleep standing up, and they couldn’t be happier for the rest they’re about to embark on.

 

Sam has already left for his trip back home to see his family and Santana although choosing not to jet off somewhere exotic this year is already in holiday mode and won’t be around for at least the next ten days.

 

This means that once again Kurt and Blaine find themselves home alone for Christmas. Well not entirely alone.

 

“He’s going to pull the tree down.” Blaine says, voice pitched with a tinge of worry. He heaves a deep sigh when he moves forward to get up off of the couch and is instantly pulled back down into a reverse bear-hug hold.

 

“Leave him. This is fun to watch, he won’t pull the tree down. He’s not that strong, he’s just little like his daddy.” Kurt says snuggling back with Blaine attached to his front, humour etched into his tone as he tightens his hold around Blaine’s middle and pulls him flush up against his chest.

 

Blaine can’t really find it anywhere in him to complain about the pull-back or the height joke, this is really the most comfortable and relaxed he has felt all month, maybe more than that. The soft knit of Kurt’s sweater feels snug against his back and shoulders and the rub of their cotton clad legs tangled together shouldn’t feel as good as it does.

 

The living room around them is plunged into darkness accept for the twinkling that’s going on over by the Christmas tree, sending little dotted shadows of warm vanilla painted across the walls and floor boards. 

 

Christmas Eve this year is a little different to how they spent it last year. They’ve been working pretty much up until just an hour or so ago. Kurt had been at some soundstage for most of the day, the contest that he had been judging for had its pre-recorded televised final and Kurt was needed there to wrap things up and see who he would be coaching in the new year. 

 

Blaine hadn’t necessarily been needed around for that, so instead used that time to put in a few hours with Andre in their now shared studio. The goal for them this year was just to get a feel for lyrics and new sounds- as Andre had put it jovially. Blaine’s honestly just enjoying being back in this place again, a place surrounded by musical equipment and little fidgety buttons and dials. A place where he can just let the music flow from him in whichever way it chooses to and he won’t be judged, because it’s just him in this little room, choosing to do only what he wants, and of course Andre who seems to grin at everything and loves everything that Blaine comes up with anyway. 

 

So after they had both arrived home, home, from their crazy, busy days, the very first thing on the agenda had been to clean up and change and literally swaddle each other. They weren’t feeling too hungry, so dinner would mostly consist of leftovers from the fridge a little later in the evening, the only priority had appeared to be getting themselves over to the couch without having to detangle and hang out with their excited little ball of fur. 

 

There’s a hiss and a squeaky mewl from across the room and Kurt grins as Blaine grimaces, both at the sight of Jester gliding around on the floor, sharp claws clicking, pawing wildly at the neatly wrapped presents that sit nice and presentably under the tree.

 

Kurt although he acts to be mature and serious, had the great idea of getting Jes a kitty stocking for Christmas and wrapping it up for him. The stocking is filled with toys made of yarn, little mice with collars on that ding and a small packet of strongly scented cat-nip drops. 

 

Jester has not left the tree alone since Kurt had placed the present there earlier, waiting for him to open on Christmas day- tomorrow morning. 

 

Kurt laughs and Jes growls frustratingly, -his wrapping had been tough work for this purpose exactly- and Blaine smiles, feeling the rumble against his back. After a short while Jes decidedly gives up and comes over to the couch all sombre like, tail literally tucked between his legs. 

 

When he hops up on Blaine’s lap to settle in against his stomach, Kurt’s arms stretch out from around Blaine’s sides to pet at his little body. Soon all that can be heard are the soft raspy purrs coming from Jesters throat with a little vibrating rumble, and it’s like peace has finally descended upon them.

 

This right here, their little bundle on the couch, the tree blinking bright and pretty at them from the corner is all that they need this Christmastime. 

 

Blaine arches his neck, the back of his head tipping back onto Kurt’s shoulder, as is instantly met with Kurt’s lips softly pressing to his. Their tongues slowly and easily meeting in a graceful glide, with soft breaths and light pants slipped out passed their teeth.

 

Blaine’s body instinctively starts to curl inwards, moving of its own accord to twist and turn and get impossibly closer to Kurt. Jester however is not very accommodating and digs his nails into Blaine’s thigh, keeping him in place. 

 

Blaine whines in his throat at the sudden sharp volt of pain running up his leg and Kurt eases back, glancing down at Jester with a smile. “I guess somebody’s a little jealous of me stealing his birth-dad away huh?”

 

Blaine chuckles, reaches up behind him to run a hand through Kurt’s fine short hair at the nape of his neck- still a little damp from his quick earlier shower. “Yes, that, or he’s just sick of us constantly booting him to the ground when we want to…you know.” 

 

Kurt grins, nestles his chin onto Blaine’s shoulder like a little hook, and kisses just below his ear. “Want to what?”

 

Blaine squirms against him but Kurt can see the smile that curls up to his eyes, even from behind him. “Don’t make me say it.”

 

Kurt kisses him again in the same spot, this time still smiling as he does it, he knows that the whiskers around his jaw and chin are tickling Blaine’s face and neck and he roots himself in closer. “Well he should get used to it by now.”

 

“Hmmm.” Is all Blaine replies, still scratching lazily through Kurt’s hair with his fingers, his eyes fluttering closed as Kurt continues nuzzling into him. 

 

When Jester starts to fall into a deep sleep again, buried in the small thigh-gap space between Blaine’s bended legs, the purring starts up again, loud and still soft and soothing. 

 

“It’s crazy that it’s been a year huh?” Blaine says quietly, staring at the tree decorated with colour.

 

“If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about then, you know it’s been over a year right? Do you not remember the suit?” 

 

Blaine uses his free hand to curl back in between them and pinch at Kurt’s stomach lightly. “Of course I remember the suit. How could I not? I didn’t necessarily mean that.”

 

Kurt giggles a little and then quietly murmurs in his ear. “I know what you mean.” 

 

Christmas means many things to many people, but to Kurt and Blaine, here in this home, this time last year, Christmas was the time when two brave souls opened up and took a running jump into a world unknown. A world that shook at the edges at times, feeling like everything around was crumbling and would never be the same again. 

 

This time last year, they started upon their journey which has lead them to now, to this. 

 

“Merry Christmas honey, let’s see what next year will bring hmmm?” Kurt whispers, his breath warm and sweet ghosting over Blaine’s skin. Blaine feels like he could levitate. 

 

Blaine unable to hold back, twists in Kurt’s arms, ignoring Jester’s whines of complaints but keeps a hand placed to his belly to stop him from falling and hoists himself upward to press his forehead to Kurt’s. 

 

He shouldn’t let himself think the things that he’s thinking about the next year, and the year after, and the year after that. 

 

But if by the way Kurt’s lips curl into a toothy grin, his eyes twinkling and eyelashes fluttering, Blaine knows that Kurt is pretty much thinking the same dare-to-dream thoughts as him.

 

“Merry Christmas, Kurt sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Because it’s Christmas I wanted to give you guys a little treat and that’s why I ended the chapter with such festive fluff.   
> I don’t know if I’ll be able to update until after the whole crazy rush and festivities of Christmas so I’ll leave you with this, I wish you all love and peace and safe and well being for this time of year.   
> When we get back to the next chapter it will be set in the new year (for them, not necessarily us) and just a heads up, we’re coming to a close within a few more chapters (most likely). 
> 
> P.S. Just so you know if anybody was interested in meeting Jester he’s up on my tumblr blog. I’m not exactly spoiler free (though I do try and tag) but if you don’t want to scroll through send me a PM and I’ll get the pic to you.
> 
> Thank you as always. H x


	10. Chapter 10

The first couple wintery months of the New Year aren’t as dull and miserable and freezing as usually expected. The weather isn’t nearly as cool, or damp as predicted at the warmer weather and kinder temperature helps to ease and heighten spirits and moral. 

 

Work schedules are busy as expected however and along with the whole mania of New York, Kurt and Blaine find themselves thrown –head first- into events and meetings left, right and center.

 

The hot new designer’s competition final had been televised over the holiday period and Kurt is now full swing into his ‘mentor’ mode, travelling all around the city. His key responsibility is basically just to show his face here and there and with the help of a fabulously prepped team of professionals they are to coach the lovely Miss Jen Osborne, who had pipped the others to the post with her unique pro-nature, go-green designs.

 

For Valentines day this year, there is a live one-off show scheduled to air on Fashion TV which is basically just a variety of models, designers and celebrities of all kinds who are there to talk about the most romantic day of the year and how style and culture can be incorporated-overall just a bit of fun.

 

Kurt and his little protégé are lined up to be there with their team- including Blaine- Kurt’s ever so helpful, supporting and loving personal assistant.

 

Blaine and Andre have been really putting in the hours in the studio since the beginning of the New Year and as a result a whole EP of music has been created from endless hours of simply experimenting and putting in the time and effort. 

 

Andre has introduced Blaine to an array of professional personnel within ‘the business’ all friendly enough and eager to join in with whatever it is Blaine and Andre had been working on. All excited and ready to get the ball rolling and get something lifting off of the ground. –All a little too ready if Blaine is being honest.

 

Word had sharp spread like wildfire around the tabloids and entertainment news blogs, about Blaine’s new little sideline project and all of the keen and willing familiar big house names who are wanting to participate. Now whenever Blaine ventures outside the questions thrown at him aren’t to do with his and Kurt’s personal life like usual, but things more like;

 

‘Blaine is it true that you’re leaving Kurt?’

 

‘Mr Anderson, would you consider yourself more successful than Mr Hummel now?’

 

‘Blaine is there something or somebody else more important in your life currently?’

 

It’s endless and tiring as usual but it’s something they had both expected and are ready to embrace-together.

 

As long as they are together, they firmly believe that they conquer anything. 

 

*

 

“Sources say that Blaine Anderson-once Kurt Hummel’s devoted PA and live-in lover- may have found himself another love in the form of music composition and production. Blaine has teamed up with music mogul Andre Kahn to work on something together. But what we want to know is, what will this do to one of New York’s hottest couples? Will he and Kurt separate or will they continue to make sweet music togeth-”

 

“Oh my god.” Blaine spits around a mouthful of toothpaste, stepping just outside the en suite enough to show Kurt his horrified expression before hurrying back inside to finish the job.

 

Kurt smirks, puts his cell phone down on the night stand and shuts off the lamp, snuggling back into the pillows of their bed with a yawn. 

 

The slice of light coming from the conjoined bathroom disappears and Blaine stumbles out blearily, all damp frizzy hair, fresh faced and undeniably tired.

 

It was just gone Eleven when they both trudged over the threshold of the elevator in to their home. After a day of meetings, rehearsals, playing with Andre, more meetings, and a light dinner function in favour of a charitable children’s fashion line auction- the two were undeniably beat. 

 

And now after getting home, prepping for the next day and cleaning themselves up, it was just gone midnight.

 

“I thought the rule was not to go on those sites and read any of that crap.” Blaine mumbles, sliding under the covers next to Kurt who was curled up facing away from him, grinning sleepily into the pillowcase. 

 

Blaine presses his forehead against the curve of Kurt’s shoulder blade and slings an arm lazily over Kurt’s hip, pulling his body close against him. Blaine kisses the back of Kurt’s head, inhaling the scent of his shampoo, the scent that always manages to bring him back home, bring his head out of its messy fuzz of thoughts and back to reality.

 

“That one was too good not to share.” Kurt mumbles in reply, humming as Blaine starts lazily rubbing his palm over his hipbone and abdomen , warm and soothingly. “Oh my god, the alarm is set for way too early tomorrow, or should I say this morning.” Kurt groans, eyes squeezing shut as he nestles back towards Blaine, not completely seductively, just at ease. Blissful ease. 

 

Blaine grumbles sleepily, and Kurt drums his fingers in a light rhythmic pattern over Blaine’s wrist, under the warm cocoon of their bed covers.   
“Maybe Sam could stop off at that place on the way tomorrow morning, you know the one with those bagels and that coffee syrup you like, and I could maybe treat you to breakfast to help wake up before we hit the make-up truck-” 

 

Kurt stops as Blaine stiffens against his back. An obvious tension and question hanging in the silence. “You know you’re coming tomorrow right? You remember? They would maybe like to interview you too, we talked about this, you cleared your schedule-”

 

Blaine’s eyelids though as heavy as they are, wrench themselves open, he bites back a groan. “Yes I did, I cleared my schedule, I’m so sorry Kurt, my head’s been all over, I should have told you earlier, I said that I’d meet with this guy first thing tomorrow morning that Andre wants me to-”

 

“Blaine.” Kurt bristles in front of him, his curled position turning rigid. 

 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can Kurt. You won’t need me there, first thing.” Blaine sounds maybe a little too dismissive and distant than planned.

 

The drumming stops and Blaine pulls his hand back as Kurt slowly starts to twist around, propping himself up on an elbow, angling his head back over his shoulder.

 

The bedroom is dark with a dull spread of moonlight shadowing the blinds and curtains up at the window. Blaine can just make out the seriousness etched across the planes of Kurt’s beautiful face. It may be late, they may be dog-tired but this isn’t ending without a fight, it appears.

 

Blaine sighs deeply, throws himself on his back, his hands rubbing at his eyes. “Kurt, I had to cancel coffee with this kid that Andre wanted me to meet the other day, because I had to cover that pitch meeting because you were off gallivanting around the city with your-”

 

“Gallivanting? Gallivanting, really Blaine? I was working. You know? Work?” Kurt is sitting up now, his back straight and rigid and tense, his head tilted to the side towards Blaine but still not quite meeting his eye.

 

Blaine heaves himself up sitting so that they’re shoulder to shoulder, barely brushing. “Yes of course I know work, what do you think I’ve been doing for the past three months, and double the load? Let alone the past year. And what is that even supposed to mean Kurt?” He asks quietly, his voice low and measured, he’s too tired for this shit. They never fight before bed, they never fight at all, not since their relationship became more than what it was, but this is too much to ignore. 

 

“Nothing, forget it.”

 

“Kurt?” Blaine’s hand lifts and reaches out towards Kurt almost instinctually, but then he drops it again, falling back down to the mattress beside their bodies. 

 

“Don’t-just, forget it Blaine. I need you there tomorrow ok.” Kurt cuts him off, his tone sharp and cool. 

 

“Of course you do.” Blaine mumbles, eyes wide, his hand flying to his mouth but he’d already said it. He didn’t mean that, he didn’t, not like that, when they’re like this. 

 

These two share the same sense of humour and at any other time Kurt would have laughed it off with him, knowing deep down what Blaine had truly meant with the comment. 

 

Kurt is rather reliant on Blaine and doesn’t make that much of a secret about it, but right now saying as much out loud and in that tone really isn’t helping matters.

 

Kurt turns sharply, facing him and when Blaine dares a peek up at him he’s not met with a look of anger like he’d expected. He’s met with a look of hurt. Fuck.

 

It’s funny how easy and how in such a short space of times little bugbears can creep up on you, meddling their way in through little cracks and causing caverns in their wake.

 

They had never thought that this would become a problem, they are too integrally wired, too connected for anything to come between them. They had this planned out, this is what they both had wanted, both had worked for. Yet here in the quiet comfort of their bed, something just wasn’t working.

 

“What?” Kurt’s voice is quiet and a little hollow and even though the word had been phrased as a question Blaine knows not too answer it. 

 

“Look Kurt,” Blaine sighs, sitting still and numb whilst Kurt continues to face away from him, staring at the wall. Blaine tries to ignore the pang of guilt in his stomach and the rise of panic in his throat. “I know that you pay me for this, that this is what I do, but you-you wanted me to do this, this thing with Andre, I though that you- you understood-”

 

There’s a tiny soft, choked off sound from the other side of the bed, and Blaine stops.

 

“Kurt?” Blaine tries again, his voice a little thick. This time he lets his hand raise to land softly against Kurt’s shoulder, trying to tug him softly towards him, into his waiting embrace. 

 

Kurt merely shrugs it off and sinks back down into the sheets and pillows, scooting himself as close to the edge of the mattress as possible. “Night, Blaine.”

 

Blaine is much too exhausted to try and do anything more tonight. He melts back into the mattress, folding himself the other way and lets his eyes fall closed, sending him into a restless sleep.

 

* 

 

“So Kurt, tell us what inspired these designs you’ve got here today for us, inspiration as well as Luuurve of course?” The presenter says, giggling and smiling brightly with her microphone angled towards Kurt’s face. 

 

Her bleached blonde hair is curled into tight ringlets bobbing around her face and the plunged neckline of her Scarlett red dress is probably just a tad inappropriate.

 

It’s not her fault, Kurt supposes. Like everyone else in this industry, they all get made up this way and paid to do this, paid to pose and smile and act. Like just hours ago when Kurt had found himself hauled into a make up chair with little powder brushes coming at him from every angle. It’s all for the camera’s after all.

 

Kurt bites his lip softly and with expert timed precision moulds his facial features into something more light and soft, something more believable and then jumps into his rehearsed ramble. 

 

He’d merely thrown together some cuts of fabric and material in different variations of vibrant and amorous styles and colours to bring today. The plan is to show them off today on the show and then auction them off or just give them away. He couldn’t really care less to be honest.

 

The marquee where the show is being recorded has been erected just off of Times Square. A quarter of the city has been cordoned off and shut down in preparation for it, and even some of the folks from Vogue over at The Conde Nast building have been along to join in with the event. 

 

The overly large tent is white on the outside and all dark reds and purples on the inside with silk and voile drapes hung from each corner in soft pastel shades of pink. There are spotlights everywhere and camera’s and bits of equipment wherever you turn, all pointed towards the small love heart shaped stage where the presenting will take place. 

 

There is pink champagne pretty much on tap, oversized vases of brilliant red roses in every crevice and a little kitchenette is set up in the corner where the most recent winner of Master Chef is busy cooking up a storm with fancy little French finger foods. 

 

Kurt can’t muster why people are so crazy about this freaking holiday? It’s just a day.

 

He’s only doing this at all, because of part of his contract he’d agreed upon as part of his role as mentor for young Jen- who had knocked the ball out of the park today with her Valentines themed accessories, all made out of recyclables and second-hand fabrics. 

 

Kurt talks with much rehearsed zeal until a little voice from his in-ear piece tells them to wrap it up so that they can cut for an ad break, and then he’s being carted off towards the back stage area, into the green room.

 

Santana greets him with a perky, encouraging smile and a tilt of her champagne flute. She came along for moral support and for the fact that she would never say no to freebies and publicising herself. Sam acknowledges him from over on the couch with a nod of his head before returning back to texting on his phone. And that’s it, nobody else around.

 

Kurt had woken to an empty bed that morning, just the sounds of the shower running next door. Down in the kitchen after he’d fed Jester and made a jar of coffee, Blaine had came hurrying into the room, dressed sharply with a harried look on his face, but with nothing to say. After Sam had buzzed to announce his arrival downstairs, eager to beat the busy morning rush hour traffic, Blaine had set his coffee mug down on the counter and had made to move- only to be told to sit and stay sternly by Kurt, like a dog.

 

And that had been the last time they’d seen or spoken to each other. 

 

Kurt narrows his eyes at Sam, a multitude of thoughts and wonderings running through his head as to who he’s actually texting. And if it is who Kurt thinks it may be then Kurt doesn’t even want to know anyway. He slumps down into a chair with a huff and waits until he’s called upon again for his next segment. 

 

It’s not exactly that Blaine was necessarily needed here today with great importance. It’s just that Blaine had been invited along to join as part of the fun, and there was going to be a section where they interview partners and spouses and quiz them on their know-how of their other half. Fun.

 

This is something that Kurt wouldn’t have ever dreamed of taking part in before he’d met Blaine. Before he grew comfortable in his own skin and that of somebody else’s also. But now he has Blaine. Blaine who makes him feel so much, makes him want so much, makes him want more, things he never knew he could have. Blaine who gives him douses of comfort and confidence just by merely standing by his side without even knowing it. 

 

This was something he knew he could do with Blaine by his side, a little private piece of themselves that they can show and give to people, and now Blaine’s not even here. Blaine didn’t want to be here. How’s that for full circle?

 

“Um, Kurt?” Kurt pulls his eyes away from the little TV screen where he’s been tiredly watching the action from out in the main tent, a flute of champagne balanced between his thighs, and over to where Sam is hovering near him, his cell phone in hand.

 

“Yes?” 

 

“I have to- uh Blaine is-”

 

“Whatever Sam, I don’t care.” He snaps rather bluntly, waving Sam off with a flick of his wrist, even causing Santana to raise an eyebrow in his direction. 

 

Sam shakes his head with a roll of his eyes and then leaves the little room quietly. Employee or not, he was Kurt’s friend first and they’ve been friends for long enough that he knows he’d get away with that, and even if not he doesn’t care, he doesn’t need to be caught up in Kurt and Blaine’s silly little spat.

 

Santana sips quietly from her glass, eyes sweeping around the room, it’s empty now except for the two of them, all of the other guests have been filtering in and out throughout the day and are now needed elsewhere. 

 

She folds her legs neatly, one over the other, looking for something to occupy her self with, and then folds them again the other way over her knee, clears her throat and picks at a scuff mark in the fabric of the couch. 

 

Eventually, finally she looks over to him, “Trouble in paradise huh?”

 

“Don’t Santana.” Kurt snips quietly, not looking at her, instead choosing to focus on a splodge on the carpet.

 

“Why?”

 

He looks at her then, his eyes darting to hers like daggers ready to pierce the surface, cool and ice blue frosted with mint green. “Because I don’t want to talk about-”

 

“No.” She stands and comes over to the little couch just beside Kurt, perches herself on the edge and leans into his personal space, a hand lightly resting on his knee. “No I meant why is there trouble? Talk to me. We don’t talk like this anymore.”

 

“We haven’t had to.” Kurt smiles a little wistfully. “Everything’s been so great lately, that we haven’t had to have our little ‘putting the world to rights’ sessions-”

 

“We don’t just have to talk about bad stuff.” She counters, lips pursed.

 

“I know, I know.” Kurt sighs, it’s just that as great as everything has been, it’s also been so crazy, and I’ve just been so-”

 

“Busy?” She offers, a little smirk on her rouge painted lips to match the occasion. “Yeah I know.” She adds dryly.

 

“Aw, you feel neglected?” Kurt says with a hint of humour, obviously trying to lighten the mood and effectively change the subject at the same time. 

 

“Cute.” She says sardonically, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, come on spit it out. What’s happened with you and Blaine?” 

 

Kurt is quiet for a few seconds, his eyebrows knitting together, deep in thought. From beyond the makeshift walls, catcalls and hoots and cheers can be heard from out on the stage, and Kurt just wants to drown them out. 

 

He could be out there right now, out there with Blaine. Why is this even so important to him? 

 

“I don’t know,” He finally sighs, slouching forward to put his glass down on the little table in front of them. “I just don’t know, I didn’t think that there was a problem. Maybe it’s just me-”

 

“What’s just you?” 

 

“This change, I don’t know it feels like something has changed and maybe it’s just me being stupid and selfish…as you usual.”

 

“Hey, hey, come on that’s not true, at all. What is this? Stop talking in riddles,” Santana scoots closer to him and shakes his knee, putting her own glass down beside his in between little glass bowls of rose scented potpourri. “We haven’t got long left in here alone, tell me what you can, get it off of your chest.”

 

Santana can be nosy and prying as anybody can, but Kurt knows by the tone of her voice right now that this is not what this is. Concern shadows her face as she blinks back at him, waiting for him to open up. 

 

“It was me, it was me who really pushed for Blaine to start up this whole music thing. I really wanted it for him, I still do, of course, but I guess I just didn’t think it would turn out this hard, so different from before.”

 

“What’s hard and different about it Kurt? You still live with the guy, you still see him. You knew what it would be like, that it would affect your sickly sweet little bubble eventually. You knew that but you went ahead with it anyway, dragged Blaine along into it. You remember why? Because you love Blaine. You love him Kurt, has that changed?”

 

“God no.” He hisses, with an almost venomous bite. “Of course I still love him, if not more, maybe that’s part of the problem.” He adds a little quieter.

 

“What do you mean?” Santana asks, tilting her head. Kurt looks at her then, and breathes deeply, even offers a small bashful smile.

 

“He used to be mine.” 

 

“He still is yours. What the hell are you-”

 

“Just mine. He was only mine and I was- I was his world.” Santana’s face softens as she thinks about this, sinking back into the couch cushions, understanding taking over her confused expression.

 

“You still are Kurt. You must know that right dummy?” She says softly, tapping at his head. Kurt nods and giggles, despite himself.

 

“Yeah I guess, but he’s just so-”

 

“Busy?” Santana finishes for him again. “God I’m getting tired of that word. Hey, newsflash, busy is what you are, busy is what you do, both of you. You’ve been ran off of your feet practically the whole time you’ve known each other-”

 

“But he’s at least always been around, always been there, with me.”

 

“Oh Kurt,” Santana smiles. “You’ve got it bad.” She sings.

 

“No shit.” Kurt scoffs.

 

“Ok this is going to sound incredibly cheesy and I’ll literally kick your ass if you repeat this to anyone.” Santana stares at him pointedly and Kurt grins. “But you do know that whether Blaine is actually with you physically or not, he’s still always there right? He’ll never be anywhere else, it’s quite clear that you two fools wouldn’t be the same without each other. No matter what happens you always come home to each other, you call, you text…you’re actually pretty lucky Kurt. Think about all those guys and girls in the Military, away from home-” 

 

“Ok, Ok Santana, god.” Kurt laughs whilst swiping a finger underneath his now moist eyes. “Jesus, my make up. Shut up, I get it.” 

 

Santana giggles with him, “What’s with you Kurt, what has brought all of this on?”

 

Kurt rubs at his eyes, standing up to look at the mirror on the far wall, making sure nothing’s smudged. “I honestly do not even know. But what I do know that is that I’m so proud of him, and so happy that he’s getting somewhere with Andre, finally, he deserves this, really he does.”

 

“All of this has just got a little bigger, a little faster than you anticipated huh? And you just miss him.” Santana says simply like she just knows, coming to stand behind Kurt, looking at his reflection in the mirror. “I know you do, and that’s ok, and don’t think that’s he not missing you either. But you opened this world up to him, and he’s just exploring it, he’s finally doing what you wanted for him, he’s not trying to leave you behind. He’s crazy about you Kurt, in fact I’m surprised he hasn’t chewed Andre’s ear off about you yet.” 

 

They both laugh and Santana helps to brush out some creases in his suit jacket. They catch eyes in the mirror, “Thank you.” Kurt mouths at her and Santana smiles, pats his shoulder.

 

“Don’t mention it, but you have to talk to him you know that right? Throwing insults at each other or not speaking like this isn’t going to help anything.”

 

“I know, I know. God I’m so stupid.” He groans, head dropping to hang from his shoulders. 

 

“It’s called love,” Santana teases, tickling the back of his neck, “And there is a very fine line between love and stupidity. God knows what’ll happen when you two get hitched-” She snaps her mouth closed when Kurt’s head comes flying back up, their eyes meeting again in the mirror’s reflection.

 

Santana waits for the beat down, waits for the icy exterior to spread and the little shutters and worry panels to position themselves. 

 

However the only thing that greets her, is the look of soft yet deep thoughtfulness in Kurt’s eyes and the tiny little shadow of a smile, hiding near the curling upturned corner of his lips. 

 

*

 

“So Kurt, lastly we have a few seconds spare, tell us about your Valentines experiences? What’s been your favourite?” The Blondie in the red dress asks him, eyes wide with curiosity.

 

Kurt is back up on the stage for the last segment of the show, airing time is almost over and all of the guests have been invited back up in front of the camera to help wrap the show up. 

 

Questions have been handed out here, there and everywhere to all guests and now, lastly before the credits roll its Kurt’s turn, as he sits huddled on a pouty mouthed shaped purple couch surrounded by one too many bodies. 

 

“Oh,” he blushes. “Well I um, honestly I never really celebrated it in the past.” There’s a pantomime worthy gasp from out in the participating crowd and behind the rows of cameras and Kurt has to grin. “Last year, was um, was the first time that Valentines really meant something to me. I um, I sent out a card-”

 

“To Blaine?” somebody calls out from the audience.

 

“Um yeah,” Kurt nods, “But I signed it from a secret admirer…” 

 

There’s an echoing ‘awww’ filling the tent as the presenter beams and says to him, “Well of course, you guys were a secret for a little while though weren’t you?” 

 

Kurt feels himself blush harder, but also somewhere deep inside it’s like something clicks. All of the pent up anger and frustration from before seems to dissipate as Kurt is unknowingly reminded of the love he has, has always had, and always will have for Blaine. 

 

“Well not a secret per se,” He starts quietly, not entirely sure of where this bout of confidence has sprang from. “We were just private I guess. Didn’t really know what was happening until it happened you know?” Kurt murmurs as eloquently as he can manage. 

 

Blondie nods and smiles and lifts a hand to her ear, obviously being told something by the direction gallery. “Ok so lastly and very quickly, where is Blaine today? Is there anything that you’d like to say to him, on the most romantic day of the year?”

 

“Oh-uh-” Kurt fumbles, fidgets with his fingers in his lap and ducks his head down, away from prying eyes and too bright smiles.

 

“I’m right here.” Comes a voice, small but steady from out in the audience. Kurt snaps his head up, his eyes zeroing in right on the source of the sound. 

 

Even with the dark shadows surrounding the spotlights Kurt can just make out Sam and Santana grinning bashfully up at him, and then of course Blaine, his beautiful Blaine standing between them, eyes shining, cheeks flushed, and that smile, that smile that is only for Kurt.

 

Kurt could burst. 

 

“And I already know everything that Kurt could want to tell me today, I think.” Blaine adds, beaming and blushing even more as the crowd around him burst into whoops and catcalls. 

 

Kurt watches through squinted eyes as Santana loops her arm through one of Blaine’s and squeezes his bicep teasingly. Sam reaches an arm around and claps him on the back and Kurt grins fondly back at the three of them. His little flock. 

 

Blondie starts rapidly speaking whilst looking pointedly into Camera A and then there’s a loud alarm ringing out throughout the tent, signalling the end of camera rolling and then its pandemonium. 

 

The crowd are ushered out through the designated exits leaving just a flurry of people. Guys hauling cameras and pieces of equipment around, the guests up on the stage say their goodbyes and are then escorted back to the green room, but Kurt’s only focus is on one person, one person who is standing in the middle of the now half-empty tent- refusing to budge. 

 

Kurt gets down off of the small stage, walking over to Blaine, wary of Santana and Sam milling around them and the last few handfuls of people hurrying in every direction, tidying away the set and props. 

 

“Hi.” Kurt says, coming to stand right in front of Blaine, accepting the hand that Blaine offers to him between their bodies. He squeezes their fingers together, curling rubbing, revelling in the feel of Blaine’s warmth and presence. Of just Blaine.

 

“Hi.” Blaine responds, mouth curled into a rebellious smirk, eyes twinkling yet there’s still a tone of un-surety to his voice. 

 

“You came?” Kurt breathes.

 

“I was always going to come Kurt, I was just going to be a little late, that’s all. For what it’s worth, I’m still sorry about that.” Blaine replies, quietly. Their fingers lace together even tighter, and Kurt wishes that everybody around them would just disappear. 

 

“I know, I know, me too-”

 

“I tried Kurt, I really tried to reschedule, but I just needed to- and then Andre said we could meet tonight instead, but then when you spoke to me like that this morning-” Blaine breaks off, exhaling deeply.

 

They could get out of here now, they could table this conversation until they’re behind the privacy of their walls, and doors and windows, but right now Kurt needs this. Kurt needs this closeness, he needs to be able to talk to Blaine, and touch him and just feel, just be.

 

Get it all up and out and leave it and move on. 

 

“God, I’m sorry Blaine. That was awful of me I know.” Kurt says, his voice so quiet and feather light, “I’m sorry for being such an ass last night too-”

 

“I should have been more understanding. I should have just known. I was having a bad day, maybe even a bad week-” Blaine says tenderly, looking at Kurt with eyes so round and wide and bright. 

 

“We all have those, that is completely comprehendible.” Kurt adds, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips, “Hell you had to deal with a whole bad year from me-”

 

Blaine pokes him in the stomach, shutting him up effectively and earning a giggle in return. “Hey come on, no, we could do the ‘I’m sorrys’ all day, let’s just go home and deal with whatever we have to deal with there ok.” He squeezes Kurt’s hand once more, his fingers itching to rub, itching to reach out, to do more. With his voice whisper soft, he adds “I missed you today, a lot actually. We’ll work this out right? This was just a blip? ”

 

The words are like a balm to Kurt, washing over him, settling and steadying him in ways that nothing else could have done, in ways he cant even understand himself.

 

“Of course.” He finally says shakily, instead of the many words that are sitting toward the back of his tongue, unable to trust what else may fall from his lips in this moment. 

 

They turn –hand in hand- to Sam and Santana who are already making their way towards the back, collecting their possessions where they’ll be signed out and escorted to the parking lot. 

 

This between them, right now and forever more is not for an audience, or for cameras. This is them, for them. 

 

*

 

In the back of the car, with Santana riding up front with Sam and the privacy dividers fully in place, Kurt straddles Blaine’s lap- not even caring of road safety at this moment in time.

 

He kisses Blaine long and slow deep, tugging at his lips with tongue and teeth and when Blaine starts to whimper low in his throat, Kurt pulls back and ducks a hand into his jacket pocket. 

 

“This is for you, I made it.” Kurt tells him quietly as he unfolds a patchwork red, pink and purple bowtie from his pocket and hands it to him. It’s made from different swatches of fabric and materials and there are even some carefully constructed hearts in the mix somewhere. 

 

“Kurt,” Blaine smiles, taking the bow tie and moving it delicately through his fingers, looking at it so carefully and tenderly.

 

“Happy Valentines.” Kurt breathes, leaning forward to press a kiss to Blaine’s cheek. 

 

Blaine turns his head quickly and catches Kurt’s lips. “Mmm, our second.”

 

“Not just a secret admirer anymore huh?” Kurt grins, whispering against Blaine’s warm, soft skin and moving his mouth down to suck against his throat. 

 

“Definitely not.” Blaine gulps, thrusting his hips upwards gently.

 

Kurt gasps, “Do you think next year we could manage getting through the most romantic day of the year without insulting each other?”

 

“Definitely,” Blaine giggles, chasing Kurt’s lips with his own, and giggling some more when Kurt yelps as he lowers him down on to his back long ways against the leather interior, snugly underneath him. “Most definitely.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- it’s probably a little late to mention but just in case you hadn’t realised, this story does have time jumps but are separated with asterisks (the same as UNF had.) I use things like birthdays, occasions and events to try and pinpoint what time of the year it is.
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter and the next does move quite quickly (in terms of time) because it’s necessary for the plot.   
> Remember the epilogue at the end if UFN? Good. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks, Enjoy.

“And Blaine?” Blaine smirks, lifts his head from his computer and tilts it over to the direction of where his name is being called, but doesn’t pull his eyes away from the screen.

 

At this rate, with the amount of questions Kurt has been throwing his way for most of the day, he’ll never finish off his afternoon work load. Just as Blaine settles back down in front of the screen or with a handful of important looking papers, Kurt finds a new way to grab his attention.

 

They’re having a quiet ‘office’ day today. It’s a Friday, their scheduled weekend off on the horizon and the working week is nicely dwindling its way down the hill to a calm and leisurely couple of days of doing nothing- save for maybes a little making out. 

 

Then again this is Kurt we’re talking about and ‘doing nothing’ usually means definitely doing something, just so long as it’s not in the vicinity of work or anything related to stress-enhancing activities. 

 

Kurt is in one of those strange, oblivious, happy, chatty moods today for some reason. He even declared that morning whilst getting ready and swatting Blaine’s hands playfully away from his ass, that it was going to be a dress-down day.

 

And so Blaine has been subjected to having to drag his eyes away from Kurt’s dark skinny denim clad thighs and back to his task at hand. To make matters worse, whilst Blaine had been shaving in the en suite that morning, blissfully unaware as to what was happening in the bedroom, Kurt had helped himself to the contents of Blaine’s closet and had greeted Blaine freshly shaven from the bathroom with a twirl and a wink dressed in one of his Tom Ford casual blazers and nothing but a thin white undershirt underneath. 

 

There is something about seeing Kurt in his own clothes that Blaine can’t quite put his finger on, but there is definitely something there, something deep rooted that seeps underneath the surface of his flesh and bones. 

 

It’s something admittedly primal and ever so slightly dominant, and it helps to keep those pesky other feelings at bay, those feelings that have been creeping up lately on the two of them, and have been causing tension and unwanted bickering. 

 

All Blaine has to do is take a glimpse of Kurt twirling around in one of Blaine’s own favourite jackets and probably his underwear too underneath those sinful jeans, and Blaine remembers what’s important above all of the chaos and stress.

 

That man is, somehow, actually Blaine’s and he’s currently teasing the hell out of him.  
The good always manages to outweigh the bad, eventually. 

 

Blaine loves this Kurt, he loves all of Kurt of course, but he just loves when Kurt is like this. It means that there’s nothing on his mind, nothing gnawing at him irritatingly, nothing indicating towards a moody Kurt day. 

 

Although Blaine is already swamped and shouldn’t really allow himself the distraction, he can’t help but adore Kurt when he’s like this, and finds himself becoming swept up in him. Even more than what he already does, and that had already seemed impossible.

 

“Darling?” Blaine finally answers, knowing that Kurt catches the teasing lilt of his tone. He glances up and over to Kurt’s side of their conjoined desks of their little condo office just on time to see Kurt’s cheeks flush a little. 

 

Pet names and terms of endearments are still something that they’re testing the waters with. They tend not to over do it, especially when out in the open in public, but Blaine knows Kurt’s limits now, in a way he’s always known them.

 

And if Blaine needed any other indication that Kurt does secretly actually like the names, the way he’d ridden Blaine into the mattress the night after their date, whispering how much it turned him on to hear Blaine call him baby earlier that day with his cock in his hand- is a pretty good indicator right there. 

 

Kurt recovers from his cute little unnecessary flustering, and Blaine wonders for a moment if he had been thinking about the same thing he was reminiscing about.   
He straightens out some items on his desk, and looks at something pointedly on his laptop screen, occasionally fluttering his eyelashes in Blaine’s direction. 

 

“I was um, I was thinking that for your birthday, we-we could invite your family and maybes my dad and Carole here for dinner and drinks, maybe a show or something?”

 

Blaine finally stops typing and clicking, looks up at Kurt over the edge of the monitor with a bright smile. Kurt’s in such a good mood that he’s planning weeks in advance in his head. 

 

“Thanksgiving- when they all came, it was- it was fun right?” Kurt adds quietly, like he needs justification, as Blaine just watches him and smiles fondly. 

 

Blaine pushes himself away from his desk, his chair rolling lightly. He stands and makes his way around to Kurt, placing himself between the edge of the desk and Kurt’s bent legs. 

 

“It was. It was lovely, and celebrating my birthday that way sounds lovely too. Thank you.” Blaine nods, still smiling. It still takes some time to sink in just how sweet and thoughtful Kurt can actually be. 

 

Kurt smiles, that small shy upturn of the corner of his upper lip, and even runs a hand through his hair. Blaine loves when he does that too. Kurt willing to mess up his own hair, means comfortable, relaxed, playful Kurt, resulting in a very proud and gleeful Blaine.

 

“New Year was good too, with everyone together.” Blaine muses, stretching his arms along the desk on either side of his body. Kurt’s eyes drop to the bulge of his biceps and muscles stretching out, under the short sleeves of his brightly coloured polo-tee. 

 

“Ah yes,” Kurt nods, rolling his chair closer into the space between Blaine’s legs, “It was awfully nice of your brother to invite all of us to LA to celebrate with him.” 

 

Blaine hums, widening his legs and allowing his knees to brush against the handle bars of Kurt’s chair, grinning he says, “It was, how unlike my brother to do something nice for his family without wanting something in return.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kurt murmurs, reaching out to draw a tiny circle with his finger tip around the little wooden button at Blaine’s collar just below his throat. “Your brother is a well to-do, respectable, all-round, nice guy.”

 

“Oh?” Blaine mumbles around a smirk, his breath hitches as Kurt manages to slip his fingertip past the tiny opening of his polo and starts tickling at the course hairs of his chest as far he can reach. “You seem rather fond. Do I have reason to be jealous?” He asks lowly, glancing upwards to the door to make sure it’s shut properly.

 

They maybe alone in the condo right now, but Santana has made a rather well known untimely habit of busting in on them one too many times, and has now learnt the rule of ‘If a door is shut, knock first…just in case.’ 

 

Kurt watches Blaine check the door past his shoulder, trails his finger lower, carefully slipping the remaining few buttons undone, until there is a delightful wedge of Blaine’s chest on show. He shakes his head, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth playfully. “Oh, of course not, I’ve already told you once that one Anderson is enough for me.” 

 

Blaine grins. Kurt adds on the end for good measure, “Actually, one man, just this one,” He tugs on Blaine’s shirt with finger tucked into his open collar. “Is more than enough for me.”

 

Blaine’s sheepish grin turns into a full almighty megawatt smile, threatening to split his face in two, his eyes dilating into heated dark pools of pure golden lust. Kurt just knows that look, he knows it too damn well.

 

They haven’t teased like this in such a long time, everything has been pretty much all work and no play for quite some time, and it’s clear to see how much they’ve missed this. It’s pretty obvious which direction this is going in, but still they prod and poke and play, teasing until no-doubt the desk will be swiped clear of it’s contents making room for them both to sprawl across the top of it. 

 

“Maybe I could use an assistant,” Blaine teases, prolonging the inevitable. Kurt’s eyes light up and Blaine just wants to kiss all over his face, and then a path upwards, nuzzling their noses alongside each others so that he can watch the way Kurt’s eyes dilate and sparkle and his lashes sweep open and closed. “Maybe Coop could come work for me, keep him quiet about wanting a job with us. How about that?”

 

Blaine knows what he’s done as soon as the word slips past his lips. Us instead of you. It’s Kurt’s business, of course. Anybody working for the company, is working for Kurt, not Blaine, not them. 

 

Kurt’s lips part with an almost silent breathless gasp, his eyes rounding like saucers, crystal clear, and then he’s smiling again, so wide that he starts to giggle. Blaine’s chest thumps, his heart beating so fast rhythmically against the inner walls of his body. 

 

Kurt scoffs, choking down his laugh and shakes his head fondly at Blaine. “Hmm, let me digest that thought.” He says, his eyes brimming with mirth, a beautiful blush coating his cheeks. 

 

Blaine exhales deeply, relief flooding from his mind and shoulders in a way he can’t quite comprehend. He laughs softly along with Kurt for a little while, the sounds of their mixed laughter and panting breaths rising and spreading around the room.

 

“Hey,” Blaine whispers, looking deep into Kurt’s eyes, searching, for what, he’s not quite sure yet. Kurt lifts his chin, tilting his head slightly in response. 

 

“Forget about my brother,” Blaine teases, flashing that grin again, “I must say, that it was also awfully nice of you to pay for everybody a room at Chateau Marmont during our stay in LA over New Year. You know, so that we weren’t all sleeping on top of each other at Cooper’s place.” Blaine says, his tone enthusiastic and light. “And it was extremely generous and thoughtful of you to ensure that our suite was on a whole other floor, away from our parent’s rooms.”

 

Blaine takes Kurt’s ear lobe between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing softly, trying to tease and distract Kurt at the same time. Kurt flushes a little bit, grins and then composes himself.

 

“Yeah, well I’m just nice like that. I just knew that they would have preferred the window view from the second floor and not way higher up, like us.” Kurt shrugs one shoulder upwards, as nonchalantly as he can manage with Blaine now softly trailing his fingers around the sensitive outer area of his ear.

 

“Mmm.” Blaine grins back, “Must admit, I enjoyed my view very, very much that night…” He drawls, leaning in to replace his fingers with his lips. 

 

Before his mouth even makes contact with Kurt’s skin, he’s pulled from the desk and down onto Kurt’s lap, the chair rolling and spinning away with the extra weight and force, as they giggle and kiss and then some more. 

 

“I just bet you did. Me too.” Kurt mouths against his neck. 

For a little over a month now, after the tantrums that had taken place during Valentines and a long, needed discussion afterwards, it had been decided that it would be logical for Blaine to adjust his working pattern slightly. 

 

Now he spends one full day a week and a few short hours during a spare evening with Andre in the studio, or wherever they need to be or visiting who ever they need to meet with, and the other four (sometimes five depending on the weekend schedule) is left free for his usual ‘Kurt’ duties.

 

It was difficult at first and definitely weird to adjust to, even just a little adjustment as Blaine only being in the office one day less. He still comes home to Kurt at the end of their day apart, rolling into bed in the middle of the night and pressing his nose to the nape of Kurt’s neck, his hair sleep rumpled and warm and soft against his face. 

 

Kurt and Blaine have been so used to each other being there, to be able to rely and depend on for so long that it had been something of a hassle for them to get used to at first, no matter how ridiculous Santana called them, or how hard Sam huffed and sighed at their pettiness.

 

So naturally during days like this, it’s quite hard for either one of them to pass up such a simple opportunity of just making out, swapping playful banter and generally just enjoying each other’s presence.

 

This may seem like something highly over the top to some couples and partnerships, but to Kurt and Blaine this is their dynamic, this is what works for them. This is why they are who they are, because of the pure need they have for each other and the willingness and the damned right determination to make it work, to make everything work, and not be proven wrong. 

 

If there is going to be an exception, then why can’t it be them?

 

*

 

The first person to acknowledge Blaine’s second year anniversary within the company is actually, surprisingly and unknowingly Sam.

 

It’s a late Sunday morning and Blaine had invited both Sam and Santana over for breakfast with him and Kurt, for no reason other than a kind gesture- or so Kurt had thought.

 

Kurt and Blaine had danced around each other in the kitchen, prepping and preparing whilst awaiting their guests, even bringing Jes into the mix and dancing with him in Kurt’s arms whilst Blaine mixed the batter for the pancakes.

 

It was so all so awfully, wonderfully domestic. 

 

Now the four of them are piled around the small wrought Iron table out on the balcony of Blaine’s old bedroom. After setting up a small buffet-style feast of various breakfast foods around the kitchen island, Blaine had suggested that they eat alfresco, and after digging in they had all piled up and out. 

 

April so far has been kind to New York, with only light sprinkling showers and sharp bursts of both cool and warm winds. At the moment they’re currently experiencing a mini heat wave and Blaine has to concentrate on not drooling all over his breakfast at the sight of Kurt’s arms in a sky blue light weight stripy tank- it is Sunday after all, and Sunday Kurt has always been one of Blaine’s favourite things- as he neatly cuts in to his miniature bacon and red pepper omelette. 

 

Jester has cunningly found a way to follow them all up undetected and is now hiding under the table artfully dodging moving legs and kicky-feet, hopefully awaiting fallen crumbs and scraps. 

 

“This is great Blaine, real nice.” Sam mumbles around a forkful of everything on his plate he had managed to spear at all at once successfully. 

 

Santana mostly ignores them all, quietly chewing on some toast as she peers down at a magazine in her lap, oversized shades balanced on top of her head. 

 

Blaine nods his thanks at Sam as Kurt brushes their legs together under the table. “I mean, you’d think it was a special occasion or something, all of this.” Sam continues, licking at his hand where some egg yolk has dribbled. 

 

“Well, you’d think right.” Blaine says, clearing his throat and washing down his last bite with a sip of mimosa- by way of Santana’s request.

 

They all look at Blaine, peering at him curiously until Santana breaks out into a grin. “Oh I wondered who would be the first to realize. Of course it would be you wonder gay.”

 

And only then does Kurt drop his knife and fork to his plate with a soft clang and punch Blaine’s shoulder playfully. “Oh my god, it’s your two year anniversary today isn’t it?”

 

“Wasn’t that Christmas or something?” Sam asks, scooping Santana’s unwanted pile of scrambled eggs onto his plate.

 

“No you ass, that was their anniversary thing, as in when they finally got it on.” Santana smirks, and Blaine blushes whilst Kurt squirms in his seat. 

 

Kurt turns fully in his seat towards Blaine, sufficiently trying to zone out the other two. “Two years, wow.” He says quietly.

 

“Yup.” Blaine nods. “You know, last year I forgot the date and this year you forgot about it.” He laughs.

 

“Next year, we’ll both forget it.” Kurt jokes, laughing freely.

 

“Will there be a next year?” Blaine asks, his voice hopeful and a touch quieter than before, discreetly trying to angle his chair and sitting position more inwards, as if trying to blank out the rest of the world just by focusing on Kurt’s face. 

 

“Yeah- I mean I uh- I sure hope so,” Kurt whispers. “I’m certainly not planning on sending you anywhere else, anytime soon.” 

 

There is just the right amount of slight mid-morning breeze to help cool the heat rapidly rising on Blaine’s cheeks, yet still not enough, he’d fan himself with a napkin if it wasn’t too obvious. 

 

All it takes sometimes is for Kurt just to say one or two little words, or even just the way he says them, and Blaine melts like putty. Still after all of this time spent together, the good and the not so good, Blaine is still captured within Kurt’s hands, and his heart, and his words that he speaks and the air that he breathes.

 

They’ve done well recently to get past their little roadblocks and stumbles, to find a way to focus on working with each other pleasantly as normal, and working around each other. Also learning how to work without each other, that has been the real challenge. 

 

Blaine loves their little playful exchanges but he still needs to make sure that things are reigned in, that they are still on the same level. Yes primarily Kurt is still Blaine’s boss, and Blaine still has him to answer to- figuratively speaking-, but lord knows that Blaine has much of a more important hold on Kurt than any job or contract that outsiders will ever know.

 

He’d hate for them to get back to that place again, where they were weeks ago, uncomfortable and unhappy with each other but for reasons completely ridiculous and childish. 

 

He rubs at the dark curls falling onto his forehead with a light catch of wind and ducks his head so that his and Kurt’s face’s are a mere inch away from each other. 

 

“You know, I uh- I don’t want to ruin the moment or anything, but uh-” Blaine begins to mumble, lowering his voice. 

 

Kurt smiles, tugging at one of his curls, his blue eyes warming with glassy green under the sun, he has that look on his face. The one that understands, the one that just knows. 

 

“I know what you’re thinking Blaine,” He smiles. “Don’t worry, no matter where ever you end up there will always be a next year. Andre can still have you, however or whenever he needs you, so long that it is beneficial to your musical genius-ness and your musical prodigies. It’s what I wanted for you all along, I just need to remember that sometimes and remember that you’re not leaving-”

 

“I’ll never leave…you.” Blaine interrupts, his voice heavy and so sure, maybe a touch louder than previously, but to his relief there are still sounds of mumbles and muffled chewing coming from their guests on the other side of the table.

 

Their eyes lock on to each other’s, longing looks of deep seeded understanding passing and silently answered questions hovering in the small space between them. 

 

Blaine beams, his shoulders and chest already hunching inward, leaning forward, lips already puckering, eyes already locking onto Kurt’s lips, as if his body is completely taking over and forgetting where he is.

 

Kurt’s eyes widen, his breath catching in his throat at the realization of what Blaine is about to do-in front of their friends, on the upstairs balcony of their home, in the broad morning daylight. 

 

Something seems to click in Blaine’s head as he watches Kurt’s reaction, it’s like matrix speed, his own eyes widening, eyelashes fluttering in surprise and then he’s pulling back- but Kurt doesn’t. 

 

Kurt’s surprised little pout turns into the tiniest of secret of smirks and he’s still not pulling back, he’s pushing in-

 

“Cheers.” They both startle, hopping back into a straight sitting position at the sound of Sam’s voice, loud and booming, cheery and completely oblivious. 

 

They both turn to see him holding out his juice glass up in the air, eagerly waiting to be joined in a toast. Santana looks like she’s both grinning and grimacing with her almost empty glass tipped upwards, eyes already sweeping over the table searching for the pre-made jug.

 

“What? Are we supposed to be celebrating or not?” Sam asks, and even has the audacity to look incredulous about it. 

 

Sam spends most of his days being relatively quiet and keeps himself to himself, but now today, this moment, he chooses to speak up and interrupt something rather significant. 

 

Blaine looks at Kurt, watches for his reaction, watches for a sign of something, anything, maybes anger, shock, surprise? Kurt slowly starts to shake his head in a rather fond manner, staring at Sam but with a look that is reserved for only those closest to him. A lovely smile, that special one, begins to unfurl on his lips, and his eyes, bright blue in the morning sunlight are twinkling so damn brightly, Blaine actually feels the relief roll through and away from him.

 

He squeezes Kurt’s knee under the table, clatters their glasses together and swoops in for a messy, delighted kiss on Kurt’s cheek, giggling when Kurt actually enthusiastically pushes his face into it.

 

“To Blaine and his two years of employment.” Kurt calls out cheerfully, glass high up in the air towards the center of the table. 

 

“Here, here-” Sam shouts, a heavily accentuated southern accent clinging to the words.

 

“To you guys.” Santana adds, her tone uncharacteristically warm and soft, her dark eyes filled deep with something that looks rather a lot like empathy. 

 

“To us.” Blaine says finally, finishing up the toast, catching Kurt’s eye and winking as they all take a drink. 

 

There is something on the horizon, something more, something big, something wonderful and they both know it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- So I guess you could call that a filler chapter if you wanted, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Thank you for reading, reviews really do mean the world to me, I really love and appreciate hearing what you think, it inspires me a lot. 
> 
>  
> 
> Heads up, we got a last chapter coming up next!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Surprise!

“Oh good, you’re here.” Kurt says softly as Blaine settles down onto the couch beside him, tucking his legs up and pats at his lap and makes soft sounds with his lips to get Jester’s attention. 

 

Jester had been sprawled along the arm of the couch behind Kurt’s shoulders, with his head tucked carefully into Kurt’s neck- it was pretty darn adorable actually. When Blaine had entered the living room Jester had clocked him, and his favourite claw friendly t-shirt that Blaine was wearing.

 

“Mmm?” Blaine scratches at the base of Jes’s spine as he crawls over to him, smirking when he stretches out and pushes his soft little paws into Blaine’s clothed stomach. 

 

Blaine arches his neck out to the side, his head leaning in and cheek jutting out towards Kurt’s space where he’s sitting crossed-legged against the arm of the opposite end of couch, with his phone in hand.

 

Kurt rolls his eyes, tutting fondly and leans into give Blaine his kiss that he knows he’s waiting for, ruffling his hair as he pushes him away again afterwards. 

 

“So I’ve been thinking and I wanted to talk to you about um, well about our work load, how much crazy, impossibly busier we seem to be getting-”

 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Blaine reaches out and taps at his shoulder like an annoying little kid, and then points to the direction of the time display on Kurt’s phone. “It’s Eight-oh-four PM. No work talk. I’m clocked out and so should you be.” He says seriously but Kurt knows that his little smirk is there just waiting to reveal itself.

 

The condo is warm tonight -it should be, it’s August- but it’s a nice warm. The air-con is kicking in comfortably and the inside air’s temperature mixed with the soft cool touch of Blaine’s hands pressing against any stretch of Kurt’s bare skin he can get to, is a welcoming feeling most nights. 

 

Tonight they’re both wearing similar pairs of shorts and tank tops, for reasons 30% temperature based and 70% just purely wanting to tease each other, with the views of short hems riding up hairy thighs and strained muscles and spatters of armpit and chest hair peeking out of thin knit sleeveless tops. 

 

Undressing a man, deftly undoing his tie and shirt buttons with your fingers and slipping your hands over his shoulders with his shirt is sexy hell. But there is also something about placing your palms firm on your lover’s taught abdomen, feeling his heart pump behind his ribcage as you glide his vest up and off grasping at his chest and arms as you go.

 

-That’s the reason for their choice of clothing. They’re not fooling anybody. 

 

Blaine curls his bare feet under Kurt’s thighs, the cool pads of his toes against the thin fabric of his sleep shorts providing a playful distraction.   
“Put your phone away.” He says with a grin. 

 

“I know, I know dear.” Kurt sighs with a smile, slipping his phone carefully down onto the floor and allowing his cheek to be pinched when he sits back up.

 

“Now tell me what you were thinking about our work load, honey.” Blaine says, his eyes simmering, toes continuing to curl and knead against his Kurt’s legs, as Jester does the same to Blaine’s stomach, both of them making themselves comfortable. 

 

Blaine is in a lovely but playful fettle tonight, relaxed and carefree- the signs of him happily distressing from a hot and hectic but manageable summer.

 

The summer so far has mostly consisted of many hard working yet refreshingly fun public outings and events. That tends to happen during the warmer, brighter seasons in the ‘showbiz’ world. -More public-based styles of work where everyone comes out and meets and drinks and dances, and then hides away again behind a computer screen during the colder, darker months. 

 

Kurt is still helping behind the scenes with Jen and is finding this whole aspect of the judging role he’d took on last year rather uplifting. He’s glad that she was chosen as the winner, and had secretly been routing for her all along, when maybe nobody else at that point was. 

 

Everybody loves an underdog, and Kurt himself being able to relate with her on other levels, has found himself rather taken with her. And Blaine too.

 

The first time that Jen had properly met and spent time with Blaine- after the show had finished and she and Kurt were getting to know one another- it had been during a quiet informal lunch meeting at a small bistro. 

 

Blaine had been out busy running some errands, his usual duties and then the little added extras he’d started taking on with Andre, when Kurt had sent him a text asking him to join them if he was free. 

 

From the moment Blaine had sat down at their table, sliding into a seat beside Kurt and chastely kissed his knuckles, Jen had pretty much melted into a puddle right there on her chair. Already being a shy, quiet personality and having to get used to working with THE Kurt Hummel was enough, but after an hour or so of Blaine unknowingly charming the pants off of her, its a wonder how she’d ever get that blush on her lily-white skin to cool down.

 

Of course a similar thing had happened when Kurt had gone with Blaine along to the studio one day, and had met with a couple of the kids who had been coming in to play for Blaine and Andre to help create and develop an idea of theirs. One of them, a performing arts student who volunteers at a special designer clothes drive on weekends, had practically hyperventilated when Blaine had introduced Kurt to them. 

 

Both Kurt and Blaine’s profiles- both as individuals and together- had risen quite substantially over the Summer. With show and tells here and there, signings, auctions, parties (lot’s of parties) premiers, meeting upon meetings- you name it, they’d done it.

 

With those things, of course, also came the public awareness, the cameras, the questions- the usual. But with time and patience the boys had became stronger than ever, tightening their little unit and proving that they can overcome any difficulties- not an easy task, but they can definitely do it.

 

They can show that they can be efficient, reliant, responsible, and very successful co-workers, as well lovers, as well as best friends. They can do it with or without cameras in their faces, and headlines printed all around about them.

 

Sometimes they may choose to hold hands in public, sometimes they may choose not to, they may flirt and tease and at other times may seem distant. But what’s important is that they can do it, and they choose to do it together. 

 

A particular fond memory of Blaine’s had been one quiet Saturday morning, spent lazily in bed enjoying breakfast, enjoying each other, and only tumbling out of bed just before noon to shower, change in to some loose fitting clothing and continue where they left off, only this time downstairs on the couch in front of the TV.

 

Too wrapped up in their leisurely little bubble, Kurt had forgotten all about a short phone-in radio interview in which he’d agreed to for a local station running a program to help kick start off a fashion-forward charitable campaign somewhere in the city.

 

While struggling under Blaine’s hold on him, with Blaine’s lips and morning stubble-he’d decided not to shave (cause it’s Saturday)- attached to his neck, Kurt had wiggled out and off and had thrown himself at his ringing phone on the coffee table, cursing and straightening himself out as Blaine playfully tugged at his shorts pockets on his ass, and Jester whined from somewhere in the background.

 

Blaine remembers sitting beside Kurt on the couch, with the phone turned to loud speaker on the coffee table in front of them, and their hands joined between them pressed to their thighs. Silently laughing into his hand at some of the more whimsical questions, and the way his heart hammered in his chest, gasping as Kurt was asked a question about Blaine and had answered with- ‘Oh he’s right here, I’ll ask him.’ 

 

There had been over night stays, and short trips away over the summer too, some sponsored, some business with no play, and some all play entirely. There was also that one weekend in July- the weekend that is still some what of a sore spot and is rarely spoken of- when Blaine had spent two days and one night away working in some exclusive studio in Montreal, with Andre and a team of highly successful know-how’s.

 

That had certainly been an experience. Witnessing a pure Kurt tantrum, not out of anger or spite and not even aimed at Blaine, but just because he was sad and already missing Blaine before he’d even left. Hanging off of Blaine’s body pathetically, whining that he didn’t want to sleep alone in bed that night, or try and figure out the coffee machine the next morning after Blaine had fiddled with the settings to match to Kurt’s preferences.

 

The reunion had been fucking fantastic though. 

 

Planned and also some spontaneous visits to and from Ohio had been arranged with their families over the summer period, all of them surprisingly nice and refreshingly better than the last. 

 

Things are really coming along with their families now. Of course everything from the past isn’t just swept under the rug and instantly forgotten, but old wounds are healing, bridges are mending, trust is building and time is spent lovingly together, getting to know one another again, and that is the best that anyone can ask for. 

 

There had also been that rather memorable trip to LA for Cooper’s birthday. The Anderson’s had been away on a Mediterranean cruise, completely forgetting the fact that it was their eldest son’s birthday, and out of sympathy Kurt had arranged for he and Blaine to go and see him. 

 

Cooper had been his usual self, loud, a little overbearing and annoying but undeniably also delightful. He’d made sure that their weekend had been spent safe and secure in his apartment, with take-outs and home delivery liquor orders, music and laughs, a lot of laughs. 

 

Kurt had found himself rather taken with the way Cooper had really shown an interest- not just boasting or bragging or begging for a job- but actually asking questions, talking and involving himself with his and Blaine’s work.

 

He was finally the brother and the man that Kurt had wanted for Blaine all along. He was certainly proving himself. 

 

It had all been a little of an eye opener to Kurt, in a positive way, and with his current lifestyle and Blaine’s looming career busting at the seams, the thought of maybe investing in some more help with the company- help from people who he cared about and could trust- had popped in to his head, one too many times. 

 

Speaking of which-

 

“Well,” Kurt starts, turning to face Blaine completely on the couch, stretching his legs out to rest his feet in Blaine’s lap, so that they’re pretty much mirroring each other’s positions. “I was thinking, that maybe we ought to start thinking about branching out…”

 

Blaine continues to watch him, his face open and receptive, though clearly not picking up on what Kurt is saying. “Hiring some new employee’s.” Kurt adds in offering of explanation.

 

“Oh,” Blaine’s whole face transforms with understanding. “Oh, ok yeah, so you want me to start looking at potential applicants, set up some interviews for you or something?” He fusses with his t-shirt a little under Jester’s little sleeping body. It’s plain to see he’s a little uncomfortable, his features maybe turning a little melancholy, “Um, maybe Carole could help again? I honestly don’t really know what help I’d be to you with that process-” He’s talking as if he’s incompetent, not needed or unwanted. Kurt sets out to remedy that.

 

“Blaine?” Kurt curls upwards and inwards towards him, placing his hands on his knees, smiling a little whilst he searches his face. Jester lifts his face in his annoyance, sleepily looking to see what all of the fuss is about. “I was thinking that we could do it together, maybe hire you an assistant, or somebody to work for and with us both.”

 

“Oh, oh. Um, really?” Blaine looks down, scratches behind Jester’s ears, looking for something to do and somewhere to divert his eyes. A faint blush is growing on his cheeks, his iris’s swirling with colour and deep recognition.

 

“Yes, really.” Kurt smiles, shuffling forward, knees bumping until Jes hisses at him in warning. “You um, you joked about it, about having your own assistant a while ago-”

 

“Yeah, I joked about it, joked about my brother-”

 

“Well would that be such a bad idea?” Blaine gapes back at him incredulously and Kurt tries not to grin too broadly at him, he obviously needs to get his head around this. “Cooper’s been wanting to work for me ever since he found out about you, and no matter how much of an ass he can be I know that I can trust him, with me and the business and you of course. With us.”

 

Blaine tips his head, shaking it and smiling fondly, like Kurt is the most special person. Hell, Kurt is the most special person.

 

“You’ve really thought about this huh?” 

 

Kurt just smiles a little sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. “He’ll get more exposure and recognition, practically a pretty large foot through the door to the right direction for him and-”

 

“-And he’ll look after you,” Blaine finishes, nodding seriously, and then his eyes light up as she starts grinning. “He’ll go bat-shit about this you know, will be forever grateful and in your debt.” He looks pointedly at Kurt, eyes dancing with mischief. 

 

“No debt to pay here. God knows why, but I’ve got faith in him about this, I think he’ll prove his worth.” Kurt grins, and then adds. “Hiring him would be my way of saying thanks-”

 

“Huh, what thanks?”

 

“Yes. A thank you for actually being a really cool guy, he hooked you up with Andre after all. He’s always been respectable of us and genuinely nice if not a little forward. Things are finally lifting off for you, you’re only gonna get busier, we both are, I guess…” He trails off quietly. 

 

“Because you won’t have me around as much any more?” Blaine finishes for him, guessing and filling in the gap. Kurt nods, not quite trusting his voice or what words may escape. They’ve done this, had this conversation in many similar variations many times, but it never really gets any easier. 

 

Blaine makes a face, the classic ‘ah I see’ face.

 

“Kurt,” Blaine takes both of Kurt’s hands in his. “You do know that I’ll always be here for you, I’m not going anywhere. We may have to get used to working without each other at times, and with other people, like we talked about, but I’m right here with you.” Blaine tugs at their joined hands for emphasis and then loosens his grip and presses a single finger to Kurt’s chest, firmly to his heart. “Always right here, nowhere else.”

 

After everything they’ve been through, everything that they’ve said and done and all of the moments shared, this is probably the most intimate, most scariest moment between them ever.

 

Kurt -feeling bold- lifts Blaine’s finger up to his mouth, presses a warm soft kiss to the center of his palm then places it right back over his heart, nodding and smiling through slight watery eyes. 

 

Blaine leans in and kisses Kurt so tenderly, cups his face with his free hand so softly like he’s made of the most fragile china and just kisses him, deep and long and slow, his whole soul pouring into it. 

 

“Kurt?” He whispers against his lips. Kurt’s eye lashes flutter open, revealing his eyes, deep green and aqua blue, glazed and bright. “He won’t- Cooper wont have to live here with us will he?”

 

Kurt laughs, loud and high and keeps laughing until he’s almost breathless until Blaine holds him still, grinning at him with soft eyes. 

 

“What do I keep telling you? There is only ONE Anderson for me. One man. And that other one, that older one, is not even getting the pass code to the elevator. He’ll be working here by invitation only.” Blaine giggles at him. “Or maybe I’ll get him a new office somewhere.”

 

Blaine’s smile is so bright and infectious, Kurt practically leaps on top of him, all arms and legs, spread out on the couch. He kisses him all over, like he’s desperate, like he can’t get enough, only feeling a little guilty as Jester grumbles and eventually hops down and away from them- stalking off to the kitchen.

 

“This place,” Kurt whispers, gesturing all around them and between them. “Is just for us. It’s always just me and you.”

 

“There’ll always be a next right?” Blaine breathes, his voice hushed and rough, staring up at Kurt with eyes so big and round, brightly coloured with a deep dark intensity.

 

“Yeah. Always.” 

 

*

 

“So, enlighten me.” Santana says, as she slinks down into a chair by Kurt’s desk.

 

Blaine is on a ‘studio’ day today, in fact he’s currently on extended day number three of studio time, but Kurt doesn’t mind, he’s eventually learned coping methods and strategies when Blaine has to work overtime. 

 

There isn’t a lot on this week anyway. 

 

The fall weather outside is treacherous and because of that Kurt has pretty much been finding excuses here, there and everywhere, all week to stay cooped up inside.

 

The remnants of the celebrations from Columbus Day are still lingering around the blustery streets of the city and as Santana bustles into the office, Kurt can smell the cool, fresh scent of October rain and wind on her skin and clothes. 

 

She’s dressed in an impeccable dove grey slim fitting pants suit, a black blouse peeking out underneath and sky high patent leather black heels strapped to her feet. Her hair is swept up on top of her head- all business looking- and she’s got her game face on, complete with blood orange matte lipstick. 

 

“What exactly does being on your PR team entail?” She grins, wide and bright, dark eyes dancing, she’s clearly happy.

 

Kurt smirks at her. “You know what it means, don’t be an ass Santana, you’ve pretty much been doing that job for me for years anyways, only now I’m making it official, if-if you- you’d like-”

 

Santana throws her hands up in the air joyously. “Yes, I’d like. Lady H, I’d like that very much. Thank you.” Her voice quietens and tone softens. Kurt regards her carefully from across the desk.

 

”You’re- you’re one of my oldest and closest friends San, my-my best friend. I couldn’t have anyone else working so closely with me, to be in charge of that kind of stuff. I’ve never wanted that before, I’ve always been independent with regards to that side of things-”

 

“I know you have.” She smiles gently.

 

“But now, I think, for Blaine’s sake as well as mine that this is a good choice, having a publicist or whatever you want to call yourself. I trust you, I know you’ll look after me-us, it will be great, I think… hopefully.”

 

They both smirk a little at each other. Both so tight, complex, compact characters yet still so soft around the edges, and warm on the inside. It’s no wonder that they’re such good friends, they just get each other. They’re one and the same. 

 

“I think you’re being smart. Wise as always doll face.”

 

Kurt smirks at her. “And you can take out of this opportunity what you want Santana, if it’s not working then it’s not working and we go back to normal. Ok?”

 

Santana salutes him. “Gotcha Captain. But I gots to know… does this mean that you need a new house keeper now? I heard the Berry’s just finished her Broadway run?” She sing-songs teasingly.

 

Kurt picks up a crumpled piece of paper from his desk and throws it at her in a little crinkly ball, smirking as it bops off of her shoulder lightly and down to the floor. 

 

He will always appreciate and respect Santana in ways that she will probably never even know.

 

“Now,” He says, his face a mask of seriousness and concentration, “Your first call of duty is to help me set a little something up.”

 

Santana leans inwards over the desk, hands clasped together in front of her, lips pressed together. She just needs a pair of glasses on her face then she’ll be every nerd’s wet dream. 

 

“Ooh do tell, is this about this thing you were talking about hiring Blaine’s hot older brother-”

 

“You have a girlfriend.”

 

“He’s still hot, I can still say that.” Santana shrugs and Kurt sighs.

 

“Yes it is. Kind of. I’m still to set up a meeting with him about it, and really talk things through. His use will be as much for Blaine as it will mine, but in terms of showing face I’m still going to make it look like there’s an interview process, you know, make it look legit and stuff like he was chosen and not just thought of-”

 

Santana leans back in her chair, nodding dramatically. “Yup, yup. See, smart, I told you. This is why you get the big bucks.” 

 

“Shut up,” he laughs. “So we’re going to hire out that office space again, the one I used to hire Blaine with Carole-”

 

“Ok. Done.” She claps her hands together. 

 

Kurt considers her for a moment and then visibly starts to flail, his fingers coming up to loosen the knot of his tie and pale eyes going wide and bulging out. 

 

“But um, but this time,” He clears his throat, “It’s going to be a little different, I guess-”

 

“Because Blaine and I and maybe Carole will be there this time? Like a panel, like on The Voice?” She asks, her voice rising with excitement, body titling forward on her chair. 

 

“Actually no,” Kurt explains, welcoming the small smirk to his lips to help ease the tension. “No, you or Carole won’t be needed. Not even Blaine, well not at first. But eventually yes, he’ll pretty vital actually.”

 

He clears his throat again, a visible wash of pale white panic spreading over his face as he drops his gaze and tries to gain focus elsewhere. 

 

“Kurt?” Santana whispers, loud enough for him to snap his eyes and attention back up at her, her bright white teeth gleaming visibly under a diamond smile. 

 

“That’s where you come in.” He says decidedly, gathering his wits and his courage, squaring his shoulders and smacking his game face on. “We’re going to need to go shopping.”

 

Just then a loud patter of rain drops hits the back office window with some force of speed, a howling gale following their drip-drop pattern with blowing leaves and street dust.

 

They both look to the window, Kurt’s face drops. 

 

Silently Santana stands from her chair and steps over to him, reaching over into his personal space and clicking on his computer. 

 

“Oh honey, here’s where auntie Tana, teaches you the wonders of online shopping.” 

 

* 

 

“Hey you, boy am I glad to see your face.” Blaine laughs breathlessly, his face as pretty as a picture, lighting up the little dull recording room as he looks up at Kurt standing in the doorway. 

 

Kurt leans against the door frame, strong arms crossed over each other, as he looks around the little studio. Andre waves at him from a behind a glass window on the far side and points to the phone he’s holding up to his ear.

 

Kurt wiggles his fingers with a smile and then walks further into the room, closing the door behind him. 

 

Blaine is stretched out on a reclining office chair, his legs up and balanced against the operating desk in front of him. If it weren’t for the fact that there are people milling around outside the studio, and if Andre wasn’t on the other side of a transparent wall- then Kurt would happily straddle those legs.

 

What he does do, what he can do, is lean down and place a quick kiss to Blaine’s forehead, smiling at his closed eyes and smushed up face. Blaine’s eyes spring back open when Kurt pulls back and settles himself on the edge of the desk next to Blaine’s crossed ankles. 

 

Studio Blaine is hot as hell, with hand-fussed wayward curls- just a dash of gel left-, his night before stubble taking over his jaw line, a tight fitting t-shirt smudged with whatever takeout he had for lunch, and a pair of loose washed out blue jeans with a gorgeous ankle gap showing off a pair of white canvas boat shoes. 

 

It’s not that Blaine doesn’t look hot in his office suits, of course he does, but it’s refreshing getting to see all of these different looks. It keeps Kurt on his toes and gives him plenty of mental images to keep him running with until they’re entwined in bed together again on a night time.

 

Blaine continues smiling brightly at Kurt, as if he’s literally his own personal ray of sunshine, who’s just waltzed up in here to brighten up his day. But even Kurt can see that he looks, beat and worn out. 

 

“Hard day?” Kurt asks softly, reaching forward to brush some curls out of Blaine’s eyes. He scrunches his face in a look of empathy, when Blaine nods pathetically with a pet lip. He’s had one of those too. Fabrics and colours that won’t match, budgets and dates that won’t meet. A confirmation of something pretty big. 

 

That’s why he decided to take a late afternoon breather and drop by here in the end. Even though they’re well rehearsed and equipped in spending some time apart now during the week, it’s still like a breath of fresh air to get to see each other for a short amount of time. Like their own personal branded bursts of rejuvenation. 

 

“Yup. Hard. Long. Tiring. Certainly not boring by any means, but yeah-” Blaine draws out a long breath and then points to the window behind them where distant muffled sounds of Andre’s phone conversation can be heard. “Andre’s trying to get us a start date as we speak, it’s just tedious, nerve wracking you know.”

 

Kurt hums and nods, knowing that feeling only too well, but then his face lights up. “Wait you said date? You’ve been given a start date for the thing?”

 

Blaine grins and holds up both of his hands, crossing both first and second fingers. 

 

Blaine and Andre have spent the past months rallying a team of people all exceptionally talented in their own right and willing to help create and become part of a small production company. 

 

Andre has already expressed his desires at wanting Blaine to sign on with him and become official partners- it’s not something that Blaine has objected to- but he has never been one to hang on to somebody else’s coat tails, and Andre thankfully gets that. 

 

The production company will start off small, recording bits of this and that in the studio but Blaine has dreams that it will expand to the stage. He’s hoping to get everybody and anybody of all ages and backgrounds involved. 

 

The motto for this new project is simply Courage and Blaine will encourage anybody to try and go for what they want. Much like Kurt had encouraged him, and how he had encouraged Kurt in other ways.

 

Kurt grins back copying Blaine with only one hand, his other hand strangely stuck behind his back. Blaine tilts his head in curiosity.

 

“Not that I don’t love the fact that you’re here right now, and believe me you’re exactly what I need, but why are you here, everything ok?” He asks, bringing his legs down from the desk and leaning forward to rest a hand on Kurt’s knee.

 

Kurt pulls his other hand out from behind his back and with it pulls out a small pale red and ivy green bouquet. 

 

“Kurt, for me? They’re beautiful!” Blaine exclaims, that gorgeous smile meeting his eyes. 

Kurt nods, reaching out to hand them to him. “No, they’re for Andre.” He says, rolling his eyes fondly. “They’re winter Roses…or something.” 

 

“Thank you.” Blaine says, clutching at the bouquet and smelling the pale tips of the petals. “Thank you so much, but why-what for?”

 

“Do I need a reason?” Kurt counters, smirking mischievously. But before Blaine can remark back with something no doubt sarcastic and humorous, Kurt shrugs with a smile and says. “Honestly, no reason, just wanted to swing by and see you, say hey-”

 

“Hey-” Blaine grins burying his nose into the bouquet again. Kurt grins back, blows out a quick deep breath and then-

 

“Oh, and also to tell you that I’ve spoken to Cooper…again. Officially we’re good to go, and he’s still going to come and interview for us, you know just for appearances sake.” 

 

Blaine smiles even wider. “That’s Great. When?” 

 

“Um, the week before we break for Christmas? So like three weeks time?” Kurt swallows, voice rising a pitch minutely higher. “Saturday was a better day for him. So, you’ll be free?” 

 

Blaine nods, already taking his phone out of his pocket to set himself a reminder of the date. “Yup. Adding it to your schedule too.” 

 

Just then a loud triumphant shout comes from behind the glass and Andre is leaping and calling out joyously, holding up two thumbs at Blaine.

 

Any residual nerves or doubts that were still hovering below the surface dissipate as Blaine launches up, howling with delight and dragging Kurt into his arms, close and tight. 

 

“Yes,” he whispers into Kurt’s neck. “Yes, we did it honey, we did it.”

 

Kurt smiles and tingles all over with excitement and anticipation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- … Next and last up a little epilogue! Thank You!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- This is for the fandom. XO 
> 
> Warnings for Smut and the brief use of a toy (not the children’s kind.)

The building block is exactly how Blaine remembers it. Large and tall, rather normal and boring looking-just like any other New York city office tower. 

 

The lobby is wide and grand looking as Blaine strolls through, with people in suits carrying briefcases hurrying around trying not to bump into one another. There are serious looking security guards standing by the entrance doors and harried secretaries sat behind the front desks. 

 

The only difference now is there’s a prim looking Christmas tree sat over in the corner by the row of elevators, dressed in bright magnolia lights and little red and gold hanging decorations. There are crisp bright blue and sparkling silver streamers hanging from corner to corner with a huge glittery star suspended from the center of the ceiling. 

 

Also it’s freezing. A typical winter, one week before Christmas type of freezing. Not like the last time when Blaine was here, in April, two, almost three years ago. 

 

Blaine remembers the weather being dry and warm back then, the sunlight pouring through the upstairs office windows, spreading over the flooring and furniture. 

 

He’ll never forget it, the way that the golden rays caught Kurt’s reflection perfectly, the tips of his carefully styled hair and the slope of his nose. The twinkling of those eyes and the way he tried to hide that little smirk. The smirk that was Blaine’s undoing, among other things. 

 

That day had etched a permanent picture behind Blaine’s eyes and in his head. A picture as beautiful and priceless as a family heirloom or an old famous piece of artwork. To Blaine, Kurt is the very embodiment of what art is supposed to mean and be worth. To Blaine, Kurt is a timeless beauty, a unique work of nature, persistent, relentless and consuming in all the best of worst ways.

 

Blaine joins the small crowd of people waiting for the elevators to reach the ground floor and carry them all back up, and for whatever reason his stomach flips, like it too is travelling back in time with him. Remembering those thoughts and feelings, those images, understanding and appreciating the fact that Blaine is still able to keep them close to him, he can relive them and renew them day by day. 

 

Blaine hums quietly along to the holiday themed elevator music as he travels upwards, keeping those first interview feelings at bay, trying to swap them with the memories that have been made ever since. 

 

That had been such a huge day for him. The last time he’d rode up in this elevator, he’d felt sick to his stomach, worried that whatever decision he was unknowingly about to make would change his life- and not in the good way.

 

Thankfully he had been wrong, oh so wrong. His life had been changed in the best ways, and he’d been right to feel nauseous and terrified but for the wrong reasons. It’s like one of those premonitions when you know something is about to happen, about to change, but you just don’t know how or why or which way, or know of any way to stop it.

 

Blaine had been lost the last time he had ridden up in this elevator, lost and unsure, needing and searching for something, anything to give him back hope, his well being, his whole life. And he’d found it, he’d found it in a freshly painted strange little office, with a lady with a kind a face and man who’s face and who’s words had changed Blaine’s life. Forever.

 

The elevator stops at his floor and Blaine exits, stepping out into the small vacant lobby and walking over towards the door which leads to the little holding area that Blaine had been sitting in with a clipboard like a little, lost soul, ticking and filling in the empty blank boxes of his life. 

 

Blaine has every right to feel those butterflies dance around his stomach with warm and welcome anticipation, the last time he was here, his life had resumed from its ongoing game of pause, and now it’s still going, strong and lively, fun and filled with enough adventure as ever.   
And also, now it will have a double dose of his loveable brother Cooper. 

 

Blaine breathes deeply through small nervous private smiles as he approaches the door, taking in the sights of potted plants and small plastic trash cans scattered about, with small hanging paintings of sunsets and golden fields of corn. 

 

God, where has two years and eight months got to? How time flies indeed. 

 

Blaine and Kurt had arranged to meet for Cooper’s interview separately. Blaine had some stuff he had to finish up regarding both his new up and coming production company- with the prospects of a new fancy label- and of course Kurt’s business.

 

Blaine still isn’t exactly sure why they have to do all of this, this whole charade with Cooper. Yeah he gets it, that the world will talk once Cooper Anderson- Blaine’s mouthy elder brother and part time model/actor- is suddenly employed within the business. 

 

But honestly? Screw the world, they’ve spent enough time learning how to overlook and forget what the critics say, that this is just child’s play to them now. They have their reasons, they are appropriate and understood to those who matter and that is what’s important. 

 

Secretly Blaine is a little relieved that a large portion of his work load will be passed on to someone else to worry about, he’s still not sure how he feels about that someone being his brother, but he understands Kurt’s reasons for it all the same.

 

Kurt needs to be surrounded by people he cares for and who cares for him back, it’s a vital part of his work ethic, his energy, its how he stays sane and keeps the most spectacular of diva strops at bay. It’s how he keeps grounded, with the help of Blaine of course. 

 

It’s how and why Blaine fell for him so hard, because no matter how much they tried to deny their feelings, Blaine couldn’t keep away, and Kurt wouldn’t let him. 

 

It’s not as if they hadn’t talked the topic to death and back with each other before even proposing the idea to Cooper at all. They may be hasty (or sometimes maybe not) but they are also smart.

 

They’d talked over every pro and con, every possible occurring setback, how the media will feed from it, how it may effect any future potential business arrangements. And they still can’t come up with a good enough justification as to why Cooper can’t or won’t do the role any justice. 

 

On paper, Blaine was not the best of applicants to hire as Kurt’s PA, but that didn’t stop his application from hitting Carole’s inbox, grabbing her attention and front runner-ing him over to Kurt.

 

Something’s are just meant to be. 

 

Blaine is a little a sad, honestly, it is kind of like the end of an era, but he’s not leaving, he’s not. He’s not leaving Kurt nor the business, he just won’t be around as much that’s all, but primarily his main duties within the business will all be still revolved around Kurt. 

 

Kurt is his main source of concern, always has been from pretty early days, and now always will be, no matter what or where his life lead may lead him.

 

Blaine glances at his watch and turns the door knob. He’s early and there’s no need to knock, he may even have beaten Kurt here, maybe they’ll have time work up a little heated steam that they can blow off whilst terrorizing his brother. Oh yes, butterflies or not, Blaine is looking forward to this very, very much.

 

Unsurprisingly the scent of paint has settled and dried and has been replaced by the waft of industrial jasmine carpet cleaner. The furniture of the little waiting room is all still the same, not even worn looking, the walls are still bright and the same plastic plant is sitting leaning up against the far corner, with probably out of date magazines splayed out on the adjacent coffee table.

 

Blaine chuckles a little to himself, for no reason other than feeling contentedness seep into him and ease his not so troubled mind. He’s about to sit down in the same spot he had been sitting that very first time when he hears a throat clearing in the next room. 

 

And then an unmistakable, unforgettable voice, “Blaine, honey? Is that you?” 

 

*

 

The office is bright and warm, even with the outside winter chill cooling the streets and spreading through the dull gray sky. Everything looks much the same as Blaine remembers it, the bookshelf, the plant pots and decorative touches. 

 

There are still picture-paintings hanging on blank spots of the warmly painted walls, and when Blaine squints and looks a little harder he can just make out a few choice small framed photographs pinned sporadically between them.

 

They’re photos of him and Kurt. Some taken from Santana’s sly hand, some sent via email attachment from Carole. And then there are some that Blaine had managed to snap using the forward facing lens of his phone’s camera, when he and Kurt had been happily working together on a bright summer’s afternoon, side by side with matching grins. 

 

He’d known that Kurt was officially buying this floor as his own, to use for business related affairs, and as a work space for Cooper and Santana, for anybody that needed it.   
Kurt has obviously grown comfortable in the knowledge of sharing snapshots of he and Blaine’s life together with those who will enter this premises. 

 

Blaine’s heart beats double time. 

 

The large oak desk is still sitting in the center, only now it’s not the main attraction of the room. Blaine’s eyes landed on the reason why his breath catches in his throat. Kurt. Kurt is seated on the far side of the desk, facing him, looking at him deep and dark and intently. 

 

It’s that look that Kurt had first given him when they’d met for the first time in this room all that time ago. Only now his face is not etched with lines of worry and weariness, now his expression is calm and soft and passive, he looks like the Kurt that Blaine has came to know and love, his Kurt, his very special Kurt.

 

The second thing for Blaine’s brain to click on to is the fact that Kurt is wearing that suit, the very same charcoal gray suit he’d worn for Blaine’s own interview. It still fits him impeccably well, tucked and trim in the best of places, highlighting Blaine’s very favourite parts of him.

 

If Blaine wasn’t 110% sure that they were set to meet his brother here today, (his straight brother) then Blaine may have reason to believe that Kurt was trying to dress to impress, and Blaine may have further more reason to feel a little unreasonably jealous. 

 

But this meeting is for Cooper, and god knows that Kurt doesn’t need to nor would he want to impress him, quite on the contrary actually. Kurt is dressed for Blaine, and Blaine only.

 

Of course Blaine can’t deny that he didn’t think long and hard about choosing his outfit this morning. He’s wearing a similar pair of dark slacks and an updated fitted version of the light blue button down that he had worn for his interview. He’s also wearing a sleek purpling-blue waistcoat from one of Kurt’s collections, and the patchwork bowtie that Kurt had made him for Valentines Day earlier that year.

 

He’s the perfect blend of colour and business mixed with pleasure. As pretty as a picture if he does say so himself, words that he had learned from Kurt’s vocabulary of ‘Blaine descriptions’. 

 

Blaine’s heart jumps from inside his chest like little excited bunny hops, he breathes and smiles, blinks his eyes as he closes the door and steps further into the room.  
Why is he suddenly feeling like this, like a young boy on a first date, or man waiting to hear his sentence?

 

He licks his dry lips, swallows past an unexplainable dry lump in his throat and approaches the desk, catching Kurt’s eyes and offering him a bright smile in return for the shy toothy one Kurt is giving him.

 

“Hi sweetheart,” Blaine says, a little roughly.

 

“Hey there.” 

 

Kurt’s cheeks are minutely flushed with colour and Blaine can see the flash of something in his crystal like eyes, it looks the very same something that Blaine feels at this moment. 

 

Blaine wants to place little kisses all over that blush. There’s time yet, there will always be time for that.

 

Why are they both so affected in this way, just by being here? Why does it thrill Blaine that Kurt appears to be flailing in the same way as him? It’s just a stupid, preliminary, obligation interview for his bro-

 

Cooper.

 

Blaine eyes dart around the room as he slumps down in to the seat set out for him on the opposite side of the desk, and Kurt. He doesn’t notice that there’s only one chair set out.

 

Cooper’s certainly not folded into any bookshelves or hiding behind an Elm bush plant along the room’s perimeter.

 

“Don’t tell me, he didn’t show?” Blaine sighs, unable to disguise his disappointment. Kurt smirks, leaning forward in his chair slightly. He doesn’t look put out at all, and it’s quite unsettling for Blaine to see him act so casually about something he would usually go quite scatty about.

 

“No, He didn’t show,” Kurt starts. Blaine knits his eyebrows together, frowning down at the desk in annoyance. “But then again, he wasn’t invited.”

 

“Huh?” Blaine’s eyes lift to Kurt’s, the rim of forest green around his iris’s catching in the bright glare from the back window’s reflection. “Kurt? What-”

 

Kurt stands, his chair wheeling away behind him as he comes around the desk, placing himself right in front of Blaine and cups his jaw softly, his thumb gently brushing over a pronounced cheekbone down to the slight dark fur above his lip. 

 

Blaine is looking up at him so bewildered and confused that Kurt can’t keep back his little chuckle as he slowly sinks to a crouch at Blaine’s knees, his hand dropping, gliding down Blaine’s chest to settle at his hip. 

 

He watches as Blaine’s eyes move down with his movement eagerly, wide and bright, wanting and captivating, just like that first time Blaine had looked at him. 

 

“Can you believe that it’s been almost three years since we were last here?” Kurt asks him quietly with a little smirk softening the weight of his words. 

 

Blaine cocks his head to one side, unable to not smirk back as Kurt looks up at him so expectantly, so fondly. He has been with Kurt professionally for nearly three years, and with him intimately for nearly two. 

 

“Yes and no.” Blaine replies. “I find it believable that my employable services are still required after all of this time,” Blaine allows a grin to break free. “We are quite the team after all.” 

 

Kurt smiles with him. “That we are.”

 

“But I don’t believe that as of next week we will have been ‘us’ for two years.”

 

“Oh?” There’s no worry to Kurt’s tone, he knows that there’s nothing to worry about here. 

 

Blaine leans forward and down, folding his arms and resting them on his bended knees, as he comes face to face with Kurt, just a nose brush away. 

 

“I can’t believe that you’re mine, that you ever allowed yourself-that you allowed me the privilege and the honour to-to-” Blaine shakes his head lightly, blinking his eyes closed and trailing off from that current thought pattern. “I just can’t believe that after almost three years, we’re still- you’re still mine, and I’m- I’m-”

 

“Mine too.” Kurt finishes for him, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “You honestly didn’t think that we’d end up here after all this time?”

 

Blaine holds himself silently still and looks down at Kurt rather incredulously. It’s neither an answer nor is it a sign of ignorance. 

 

“Ok, I know I was a little difficult to deal with in the beginning, rough around the edges and all that, and obviously you probably wouldn’t have came to this conclusion,” Kurt continues when Blaine still doesn’t speak, “but you saw in me, you felt in me what I wanted you to, what I knew that you could, even before I’d actually realized it myself. You didn’t give up on me.”

 

“God, Kurt, never, I couldn’t possibly, even though maybe sometimes I told myself that I should-” Blaine unfolds his arms and wraps them around Kurt’s neck, bringing them snug together cheek to cheek. 

 

“You wanna keep doing this with me then?” Kurt whispers, his warm rush of breath tickling against Blaine’s unruly curls that are flopping over the shell of his ear. “This dance of goofing off in the office that we’re doing together, rumpling the sheets of six star hotels, drafting up emails and eating and drinking, dancing and playing music until we’re sick with it, signing papers and walks in the park, movie marathons and meetings with miserable people worried about and wanting my money. Loving each other and actually being able to call it work, all of it, everything. Are you going to- do you want to keep doing it all with me?” 

 

“Kurt,” Blaine breathes into his ear, he pulls back just enough to look into Kurt’s eyes, so close that he can see the glassy shards of green breaking up the blue of his iris’s. “Loving you is never something that I would call work. And working for you has always been part of the reason why I love you.”

 

Kurt gasps lightly, “I-I love you too.” 

 

His brain shifts into overdrive as his body takes over automatic control. Blaine’s words sink deep into him, slotting themselves into elected little gaps of Kurt’s heart and his head and soul, melting and moulding like burning hot steel, forever in place. 

 

He stands pulling Blaine up by the hands and onto the ledge of the desk as he ducks down and sucks open mouthed, wet kisses into the homey dip of Blaine’s throat above the collar of his shirt.

 

“Kurt.” Blaine chokes out, arms and legs flailing as items from the desk slide and fly in all directions by Kurt’s hands, as he presses forward with his thighs, pushing Blaine backwards even further up onto the desk.

 

Blaine groans as Kurt grips him by his thighs, fingers pressing just under the cheeks of his ass and lifts him into perfect position, exactly how he wants, how he needs him. His head falls back on his shoulders, eyes rolling in their sockets back to the wide clear windows behind them. 

 

“Oh god, Kurt, baby, the-the windows.” Blaine croaks out as Kurt’s hands fall to his belt buckle, gently easing Blaine’s pelvis, hips and stomach down to the desk’s surface as his fingers work.

 

Kurt groans deep and dirty, cheeks flushing with colour, his eyes light up in all different shades of blues and bright greens.   
“Oh god,” He growls out, dropping down, continuing to suck at Blaine’s flushed skin under his chin. “Yes, say-say that again.”

 

Blaine grins, caught up by a gasp, just managing to breathe out “Baby, the windows- people can see-”

 

“From way over here, twenty-three floors up? Hardly.” Kurt laughs softly, as he undoes the buttons of Blaine’s waistcoat in lightning speed and pulls his shirt out from the waistline of his pants. “Unless somebody owns a pair of binoculars over in the building across the street.”

 

Blaine laughs, his hands swiping off Kurt’s suit jacket from his arms and shoulders. “Since when did you become so ‘Oh I don’t give a shit’?” 

 

Kurt unbuttons his own shirt in between nips and kisses, “Since I have you in my life to remind that I don’t need to give a shit, not about anything or one but you. Not anymore.”

 

They both smile as they kiss, licking in to each other’s mouths.   
“Make those sounds for me Blaine, those sounds that I love.” Blaine moans, loud and delicious, unable to help it as Kurt rocks against him, fingers working at his bowtie, still standing hovering over the edge of the desk. “That’s it sweetheart, that’s the one. Just for me, nobody else on this floor to hear you.”

 

They fumble through the rest of undressing each other, until they’re both down to similar pairs of boxer-briefs, straining at the seams and panting ghosting breaths over bare heaving chests and sharp angled stomachs. 

 

Blaine has now managed to slide himself up and off the desk, rubbing himself up against Kurt, thick and hard. They’ve twisted around so that Kurt is now resting neatly against the edge of the desk with Blaine’s arms rubbing up and down his back and around his sides. 

 

“Mmm, Jesus Kurt, the things I had thought of doing to you, of you doing to me, back on that first day.” 

 

“Tell me,” Kurt pants, hooking his thumbs under the elastic of Blaine’s underwear at his hips, “Show me. I just know that it’s most likely the very same as I what I had dreamed about doing to you.”

 

It’s like a blur, a rapid whoosh of movement as Kurt finds himself bent over, face first down on to the desk, his underwear pulled down to pool at his feet, and Blaine down on his knees behind him.

 

There’s no preamble, no build up, not for this. Kurt cries out almost soundlessly as Blaine kisses up the crack of his ass, his fingers pulling him apart and his tongue searching and seeking, teasing. 

 

“Fuck- shit, aah Blaine, you-you thought about doing this to me, that first day?” 

 

Blaine makes a low throaty sound of assent as he licks into Kurt’s hole, opening him up, wet and hot. The vibration of his lips against Kurt’s ass cheeks and fleshy opening make Kurt’s knees quiver and buckle beneath him. 

 

He pulls away, nibbling a trail from Kurt’s milky soft cheek down to his thigh and groin and back up again. “Among other things, yes.”

 

Blaine continues teasing him some more, delighting in the way that Kurt rocks back against his tongue, moans in time with his lapping. 

 

“Open up for me Kurt, I can’t wait.” Blaine rasps, licking his lips as he sits back and watches with dilated pupils at the sight of Kurt’s pucker pink and glossy, hungrily seeking out more. 

 

Kurt raises his hand, sucks two fingers into his mouth and before Blaine can groan out a response of satisfaction, Kurt is reaching back and fingering himself open for Blaine.

 

There’s probably not enough prepping but Kurt can take it. His own knowledgeable fingers and Blaine’s skilled tongue are quite sufficient enough. He pulls his fingers out and before Blaine can grab his hips and fold him into position, Kurt reaches across the desk into a drawer, opens up and pulls something small, hard and round out.

 

“Wait,” He mumbles, “Take this, please.”

 

Blaine makes a strained groaning sound from behind him and Kurt smirks when the gasp comes next.

 

“You’ve came prepared, although for an interview? I’m not so sure.” Blaine says, bending forward to take the silver butt plug from Kurt’s fingers, his still clothed hard-on throbs against Kurt’s lower back as he moves and Kurt makes a very low, guttural noise in return.

 

Kurt hands him a small bottle of lubricant next and then settles himself back into position against the desk. “Hurry please, put it in and fuck me, hard. Then I’ll return the favour.” 

 

The process of stripping of his underwear, stretching himself open with slick fingers followed by the cool, slippery feel of the small bullet shaped plug takes a lot less time than what it should. 

 

It doesn’t hurt, but there’s going to be friction and Blaine will definitely be feeling the after-affects tomorrow, though that’s not necessarily a bad thing. 

 

When Blaine finally curls his fingers and warm palms around Kurt’s hip bones, bends his knees and slowly starts to push forward and sink into him, Kurt sighs out high and breathy, a mix of relief and pleasure washing over him.

 

“Oh fuck,” Blaine breathes into Kurt’s shoulder blade as he bends over his body, olive dark haired chest to pale, smooth back and pushes in, in, deep and slow until he bottoms out. “Fuck Kurt, love you, so much.” 

 

He presses a circle of kisses to a lean slab of muscle on Kurt’s back, whining and cursing as he settles and stills his body, allowing both of them to accommodate the heat and the stretch. 

 

Kurt braces a cheek on the desk, moves his face so that he can just see the outline of Blaine’s body behind him. “I love you too Blaine.”

 

Blaine groans, presses in deep. “I hope to fuck that Cooper doesn’t show up.” He breathes, kissing up and down the knobs of Kurt’s spine. 

 

Kurt giggles before it turns into a moan as Blaine slowly rotates his hips. “I told you, he’s not coming.” 

 

“He never was?”

 

Kurt shakes his head from side to side as Blaine starts up his thrusts forward in slow, rhythmic patterns. “Nuh-uh. Oh Blaine, there, there-”

 

“So it was a ploy? You used my brother to lure me into one of your fantasies.” Blaine murmurs as he slowly pulls back, slipping free from the tight grasp of Kurt’s heat until he’s almost all of the way out. 

 

“Stop talking about your brother and fuck me like you want to.” Kurt all but cries out, and then Blaine slams forward with a shout, effectively ending the conversation.

 

It’s quick and filthy, fast and dirty, hard pushes and slick pulls to the beat of skin and bones slapping together and a chorus of moans tied with the most juiciest of words. 

 

“Shit Kurt, the plug-” Blaine gasps, “Ugh the plug.” He says again, angling his hips in sporadic movements. 

 

Kurt can feel when Blaine’s close, can feel the quiver of his thighs as they press against the backs of his. He can imagine the bullet pressing into Blaine’s prostate as he fucks into Kurt with vigour, stimulating him wildly, pleasurable torture from both ends. Kurt encourages it.

 

“Come Blaine, come.” All it takes after that is a few purposeful clenches of Kurt around Blaine and then Blaine is coming and coming, hips pumping with fervour, smacking against Kurt’s backside as he whines and whimpers out Kurt’s name.

 

Kurt only allows him a moment to breathe through the come and down, soften and slip out and then Kurt has him turned around, sprawled across the desk face up, legs spread.

 

“Yes.” Kurt hisses, hopping up after Blaine and bracing himself on his knees between his bent legs. Slowly and carefully he removes the plug with an extra dribble of lube, hitches Blaine’s legs to rest over his shoulders, ankles to ears.

 

“Yes honey, oh look at you, so ready and waiting, yet so done.” Kurt breathes, slicking himself up with leftover lubricant on his fingers, lining himself up and then pushing in. 

 

Blaine looks so beautiful underneath him like this, dishevelled and fucked open, ready for more, ready for Kurt, always. With the bridge of his nose and the tips of his cheeks dotted a pinkish red, and his dark feathery lashes coming to rest against his skin, Blaine looks like the very embodiment of glorious satiation. Kurt could come just from looking down at him. 

 

After the good fucking that Blaine had given him just moments before, it doesn’t actually take long for Kurt to climax. Blaine is tight and hot around him, rolling his eyes and grunting from deep in his chest with each grind and thrust. It’s pure bliss, its heaven.

 

Kurt comes keenly, crying out as his thighs quiver and his hips pummel into Blaine’s body until he’s finished filling him up. They moan and breathe and wriggle gently together until Kurt pulls himself out from Blaine’s body and then flops down on top of him like a starfish. 

 

Blaine’s substance from his earlier release is dribbling down Kurt’s cheeks and down his thighs and apart from the travel pack of hand wipes that’s in the top drawer, he hasn’t really thought this through. 

 

To hell with it, he’d do that again ten times over if he could, the whole thing.

 

“Wow.” Blaine mumbles after some time, smacking his lips together and winking one eye open with a smirk to look at Kurt. He brushes his hands through Kurt’s slightly sweaty hairline, the curve of his neck, the sharp lines of his shoulder blades and then down to the soft round globes of his ass with a light squeeze.   
“We’re lying naked on Cooper’s new desk, in his new office.” Blaine laughs.

 

“We’ve just had sex on Cooper’s new desk, in his new office.” Kurt corrects, sighing blissfully as Blaine’s hands start to massage him.

 

“Ok, so I think I get why you didn’t invite Cooper here today.” Kurt giggles. “But it’s still on isn’t it? The whole Cooper PA thing?” 

 

“Oh yes, of course.” Kurt traces the letters of his own name into the warm, moistened skin of Blaine’s back. “There won’t be an interview, no need I’ve decided, but yes this very much is Cooper’s desk.”

 

“And we’re still lying naked atop of it.”

 

They laugh and kiss through the clean up and re-dressing process, using all of Kurt’s handy pack of wipes and then fumbling through their pockets to look for handkerchiefs. 

 

Kurt sits down on his seat behind the desk and gestures for Blaine to do the same opposite him. 

 

Blaine grins as he sits, raising an eye brow. “So, really, this is it? You faked Cooper’s interview for a little tumble on the tabletop of the place we met? Because you know, you didn’t need the charade, I would’ve done as I’m asked, I’m a good boy.” 

 

Kurt scoffs a laugh. “You are indeed. Though I um, I did have other reasons to get you back here.” 

 

Kurt quiets for a moment, diverting Blaine’s gaze no matter how hard the other man tries to catch it. He focuses on his breathing, in and out, deep and long, and then his eyes finally flick back up and land on Blaine. 

 

Orbs like a galaxy sky, shining with depths of hidden truths, meeting with orbs of golden liquid, all wide and open.

 

Wordlessly Kurt opens up the desk drawer again which for some reason makes Blaine smile. 

 

“What else you got in there, in your box of tricks huh?” he laughs, while leaning in trying to peer around Kurt’s hand. 

 

“Are you now going to evaluate me on what we’ve done here today? Renew my contract based on a scale of 1 to ‘oh my god Blaine’ ”? 

 

If his stomach wasn’t currently back flipping all over the place, then Kurt would laugh at his zealous boyfriend and smile at the smug look on his face. 

 

Instead he takes a deep breath, takes out a very small black leather box from the drawer, and with shaking hands places it gently on the table top in front of Blaine.

 

Blaine’s jaw drops, his gasp audible and his eyes as round and bright and wet as something from a lovable cartoon. He stares at the little black box under his nose. Kurt clears his throat. 

 

“Um, this is your new contract, if you like.” Kurt says, his voice small and so quiet as he looks down at the box and then back up to Blaine with fleeting glances. 

 

Kurt clears his throat once more and when he tries to speak again his voice almost breaks and turns hoarse. Blaine bites his lip, sniffles and lifts a hand to his mouth when Kurt uses one finger and his thumb to open up the box.

 

The gleaming beam of Blaine’s pearly white smiles when he drops his hand almost reflects the impressive sparkle coming off of the tiny object inside of the box.

 

Through quivering, smiling lips and shining eyes that are mirroring the facial reactions of Blaine, he covers Blaine’s left hand with his right, brushing a thumb over his second last finger. 

 

“A-and this one’s until forever, if-if you say yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Yeah, so this isn’t the epilogue after all. I can’t promise how long this will last, but there will most likely not be a third part in the series. It’s very important to me that I leave these boys all wrapped up in a place that feels right and finished to me, I don’t want to over do it, but they certainly have more to share with you for now.
> 
> Thank you everybody so much for all of the love for this story, especially to those who have took the time to review and message me privately and encourage and support me further. You know who you are. X


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, boy has this chapter had some work put into it. I hope you enjoy, please let me know if so and thank you for reading.

“Ok—so what we talking here? A last minute Christmas wedding in Central Park? I’m pretty sure that you’ve got something in that collection of yours I could pull off as a maid of honor’s dress…”

 

“Santana.” Kurt sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“Don’t tell me I’m not your maid of honor, Hummel; that part is mine! Who else is gonna do it—Sam?”

 

“Oh no, Sam is reserved for my team,” Blaine chuckles, lifting Kurt’s hand from his face and placing it down on his own knee, covering it with his own warm, strong curved palm. “But, Santana, what I think Kurt wants to say is that we only got engaged like two days ago; I don’t think we’re going to do any kind of planning until at least after Christmas—most likely the New Year now. We just want to enjoy this moment.”

 

He turns to Kurt, who’s sitting beside him on the couch, rubs his thumb over the wedge of thin layer of skin between Kurt’s thumb and forefinger, and offers him a shy but warm smile. “Right?”

 

“Right,” Kurt nods, smiling back, his face shifting from resigned to relaxed.

 

Santana doesn’t even look at them, not really; she just scoffs as she goes back to looking at different styles and colors of bouquets on a website on Kurt’s laptop.

“Ok, whatever, but I am definitely choosing the flowers that _I_ will be carrying, not you two.”

 

Kurt huffs, biting back his remark, and drops his head to Blaine’s shoulder, burrowing down deeper between Blaine and the couch. Blaine grins, cradles Kurt’s head in his hands and softly pats at his hair.

 

It’s all just so lovely, so sickly sweet, and romantically, horribly, boringly domestic. Blaine could just burst. 

 

They’re still in somewhat of a haze right now, soaking everything up and letting it sink in. Since Blaine had answered Kurt’s question with a resounding cry of yes, followed by his literally crawling across the desk to reach Kurt, they’ve done nothing but hide under their sheets and in each other’s arms, revelling in their happiness.

 

They haven’t really talked about it much at all. When Blaine had asked Kurt about the proposal, nudging him for answers with tickling fingers and searching lips, Kurt had only shrugged and pushed Blaine onto his back—no matter the surface—and covered his body playfully with his own. Blaine had only then managed to mumble out weakly through giggles, “I always thought it would end in _me_ begging _you_ to marry me.”   

 

They hadn’t even gotten around to talking about announcing the happy news yet, or discussing how they would do it. They had, however, definitely agreed to call their parents and let them know first and foremost.

 

But today is Sunday, and Santana had come by for her very last housekeeping shift before beginning her new role as Kurt’s publicist in the New Year. They hadn’t even had time to try and scramble apart or for Blaine to carefully place his hand out of sight before she was holding his hand up where she could examine it, yelling and laughing and demanding a champagne breakfast.

 

Now they’re all sitting downstairs with hastily made coffees, Kurt and Blaine still dressed in their lounge pants and sweatshirts, waiting for Sam to arrive with their breakfast orders from one of their favorite local breakfast establishments. 

 

“And what about you, little guy? Daddy Number Two gonna make you a fancy ring-bearing satin pillow?” Santana sings down in a sickly sweet voice to Jester, who had been sitting down on the living room floor watching them all intently.

 

“God, no.” Kurt says into his coffee mug. Blaine laughs and squeezes his knee.

 

“Aww, but Honey…poor Jes!” Kurt gives Blaine a look, _that_ look, and Blaine just smiles.

 

Saying yes to Kurt had been one of the easiest decisions Blaine had ever made. There had hardly been a decision there to make at all. These moments, this rapport, this special connection—this was exactly what Blaine was looking forward to when he gave Kurt his answer.

 

The questions, the options, the playful debates, the discussions that may end up in silence after a hard day, only to be thrashed out in the bedroom afterward—Blaine wants it all, so much so that he’s giddy with it. 

 

Sam arrives shortly with breakfast, just as Santana begins to rant about how there should be ice sculptures, fire breathers and caricaturists at the reception party.

 

Kurt quickly breaks away from the conversation, moving to help Sam with the brown paper take-out bags. No matter how happy and proud and in love he is, some things will always remain the same; Kurt will always try to deflect and divert from being Santana’s main point of focus.

 

Kurt may be one of the most sought after designers in the state, or even the country, and perhaps he’s starting to gain recognition internationally. He may have more money than sense in some circumstances, and certainly in terms of allowing himself to be happy. He may have his moments when his status and power get the better of him, but one thing that Kurt does not take well is being the center of attention, no matter who or what he is—even with Santana. Blaine is the only person with whom he feels completely at ease in this way. 

 

Blaine has no idea of what to expect from this wedding, or how and when to expect it. The focus needed for the initial planning of the wedding may not come easily to them, either as a couple or individually. This is partly due to their hectic professional lives, but it’s also just something that Blaine knows to accept. Being with Kurt, both professionally and intimately, has been challenging at times, especially in the beginning of their relationship, when Kurt was so closed off from his father and people in general. And, while Kurt definitely has mellowed since reconciling with Burt and since acknowledging his feelings for Blaine, he’s still a strong-willed and sometimes-opinionated man who believes people should meet his expectations.

 

This probably won’t change just because they’re married. On the other hand, one thing that undoubtedly will change is if—no, _when—_ Kurt does get in one of his pissy moods, Blaine will only have to glance down at the ring on his finger or flick through the hundreds of photo memories to be reminded that the early, rough stages of their relationship have already passed.   

 

However, regardless of the circumstances, it’s not the wedding that Blaine actually is looking forward to the most. It’s the marriage. His marriage to Kurt is what will make all the chaos of planning the wedding—where to have it, whom to invite, menu-planning, what to wear, writing their vows—so worthwhile.

 

Blaine shushes Santana with a playful hand gesture and smiles at Sam and then Kurt as he walks over to join them. Kurt and Blaine share a moment of eye contact over the kitchen island, that special kind of eye contact, just between them. The kind that says, _I know. It’s ok. Thank you. I love you._    

 

Ever since back in April, when Blaine had invited Sam and Santana over for breakfast to celebrate his two years of working for Kurt—and it had been so surprisingly pleasant, enjoyable, and just plain comfortable—a weekend breakfast with each other had become almost a tradition, a weekly event they all have came to thoroughly enjoy and appreciate. They’d take turns deciding where to have breakfast and what to have—the one main rule being that they are not to discuss work matters, instead, using the time to strengthen their personal ties or just discuss non-work-related topics.

 

Blaine discreetly displays his ring while helping Sam unpack the cartons and, to both Blaine’s and Kurt’s shocked amusement, as soon as Sam notices it, he freaks out like a kid on Christmas. It’s like Santana 2.0, only a slightly more PG version.

 

Sam leaps from his chair and into Blaine’s arms, pounding him on the back repeatedly. He then turns to Kurt, taking him by the shoulders and the face, like some proud grandfather. It’s all rather comical and strangely sentimental, and Blaine has to duck his head to blink back some stray happy tears.

 

“So really, you guys didn’t know that Kurt was going to ask me?” Blaine asks when everyone is sitting around the island, sharing the pancakes while Kurt is busy swapping his extra strawberries for Blaine’s blueberries. The conversation is quiet and easy, and Blaine just feels happy and comfortable to talk about it, knowing that Kurt feels the same way.

 

“No.” Santana says, her tone amusingly clipped, scowling at Kurt from across the breakfast island. Kurt scowls right back, and then smirks at her unimpressed face.

 

“I told you what was I planning Santana. Or at least I alluded to it.”

 

“Yeah, but not exactly when it was going down.” She points her fork at him, “And excuse me for not knowing that Mr. Fancy Pants was in the mood for playing games. I totally expected to be allowed in on your big ‘ask,’ and to be there and pretend to be all busy or something…”

 

“You told her _all_ of what you had planned?” Blaine leans in to Kurt’s side, eyebrows arched, whispering in his ear, but not quietly enough. Kurt’s cheeks flood with color, his eyes bulging, and Santana chokes out a laugh.

 

“Oh, did you fail to fill me in on something, Romeo?” she asks Kurt, smacking her lips, utterly delighted.

 

“Nuh-uh. Nobody told me nothing.” Sam speaks up, shaking his head, obviously unaware of the slight turn of conversation. There’s a blob of syrup stuck to his bottom lip, and his eyes are downcast as he concentrates at jabbing at a piece of pancake on his plate.

 

Blaine nudges Kurt’s shoulder, and Kurt knows that he’s about five seconds away from getting all sappy on him. Blaine knows exactly why Kurt had kept this all under wraps; he wouldn’t be _his_ Kurt if he didn’t. Blaine can’t help but tease a little, though.

 

“So, I take it you didn’t ask my father for my hand?” Blaine asks quietly and oh so casually, when the conversation dips again into an easy, comfortable silence.

 

Kurt swallows his mouthful so loudly it sounds almost painful. He whips his head around to look at Blaine, eyelashes almost touching the tips of his raised brow. Blaine looks at him, winks and then chuckles mischievously.

 

Kurt is too much fun to wind up sometimes.

 

Santana pitches in something about imagining Kurt gracefully pleading with Blaine’s father for permission to marry his son, and Kurt trips her with a well placed foot on her way to drop her dishes in the sink.

 

It’s safe to say that the jokes are dropped for the time being after that. Afterwards Kurt feeds Jes the leftover scraps while ignoring Blaine’s chastisements for doing so. Blaine, Kurt and Sam disperse to the couches, while Santana makes herself at home at the wet bar. She pops the cork on a bottle of champagne, grabs a bottle of orange juice from the mini-fridge, mixes it all into a large carafe, and joins everyone for a round of celebratory Mimosas. 

 

“So!” Sam practically yells into the room, after taking a gulp from his glass and slapping his hand against his knee, startling everyone, “Bachelor parties! I say…wait for it… Mexico! Cancun for Kurt—for the culture—and Acapulco for Blaine—‘cause it’s fun. We spend two nights and three days in each city. Santana keeps one groom busy while the other groom and I paint the town red. Then we’ll all retreat somewhere relaxing, like a spa resort or something. Thoughts? Go!”

 

Sam is speaking with utmost conviction, his face molded into a mask of utter seriousness. His pale green eyes, filled with steely determination, are trained on Blaine’s face, while flicking occasional glances over at Kurt.

 

Kurt throws back the rest of his cocktail, eyes clenched shut, and flicks his wrist with the empty flute towards Santana, obviously indicating that he needs more, and now.

 

Santana throws her head back, barking out a loud obnoxious laugh, before composing herself enough to shuffle towards Kurt with the carafe. 

 

Blaine looks at Sam, a little dumbfounded and unsure what his initial reaction should actually be. He’s immediately aware of Kurt’s stiffening posture beside him, and he settles farther down into the couch, even closer to Kurt’s side. He firmly takes Kurt’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb soothingly over the bones of his knuckles, possibly preventing Kurt from saying—or doing—something to Sam that he would later regret.

 

This is just the first day of a very long line of days of this sort of conversation. Blaine begins to wonder if he could persuade Kurt to meditate with him. 

 

*

 

Kurt’s voice flatly resonates from nearby in the darkness, “We’re not going to Mexico for our bachelor parties, by the way. We’re actually not doing any of what Sam suggested, believe it or not.”

 

Blaine doesn’t have to look at his fiancé (god, _his_ _fiancé_ ) to know that the look upon his face definitely matches the unimpressed tone of his voice.

 

Blaine grins upwards towards the ceiling and squeezes Kurt’s fingers tighter with his. Kurt responds to the squeeze by swaying their hands together between them under the covers.

 

They’ve been lying in bed together, comfortable in the dark cool of the late night for almost a half hour now, just talking and laughing and revelling in the feel and the touch of each other.

 

The evenings are chilly enough now that both men are in their pajamas, but this often changes at a moment’s notice when their bodies warm to each other and casual touches become more intense and heated.

 

After a drowsy pause, Blaine lazily responds, “Oh, well yeah, that goes without saying.” He untangles their hands as he rolls and tucks himself up on his side. He sighs, sleepy and happy, when Kurt folds himself around him from behind in true big spoon fashion. Kurt finds Blaine’s hand again and rests their entwined fingers on the slope of Blaine’s hip under his striped pajama top.

 

Kurt murmurs into the back of Blaine’s head, burying his nose in his sweet-smelling curls. “It’s weird,” he muses into the darkness after a few quiet moments of breathing together, just slightly slipping into the beginnings of slumber, the cool pads of feet rubbing together under the warmth of their bed covers.

 

“Hmm?” Blaine wraps his arm over his chest to rest over Kurt’s. “W’sat?” His voice is deep and grumbled, heavy with the weight of impending sleep. It’s strangely and contentedly sexy.  

 

“Our friends.” Kurt ducks his head and mouths at the nape of Blaine’s neck, just below his wavy lambs-tail of curls, just above the collar of his sleep shirt. “How ludicrous they both seem to be at times, yet how we can’t be without them. They’re not getting free rein to half of the things they think they are, but I still wouldn’t have this wedding without them at our sides.”

 

Kurt can feel Blaine’s smile, can hear the hitch of his breath as he does so. “Agreed. _Our_ friends?”

 

“Is that not what they are? _Our_ friends?”

 

“Oh, of course they are, yes; it’s just, it’s…”

 

“What?” Kurt whispers, “What is it?” He ends his words with a soft kiss and the brush of the cool tip of his nose. Blaine shivers, and Kurt smirks into his skin.

 

“Nothing, it’s…it’s dumb.” Kurt squeezes him, obviously not happy with that answer, and Blaine sighs, trying not to giggle. “Ok, ok. I guess it’s just that…they were _your_ friends at one point. Before I came in to the picture, they were your friends first…”

 

“And now they’re yours, too. And they wouldn’t have it any other way. _I_ wouldn’t have it any other way,” Kurt interrupts. He props himself on an elbow to hover over Blaine’s shoulder, peering down at him.

 

The darkness of the indoor winter’s night leaves little light to see much other than shadows, shades of black and grey and traces of outlines, but Kurt stares down at Blaine, his memory providing all the vision he needs. Blaine’s face, his eyes and that nose, those _lips_ are ingrained forever in Kurt’s mind. He doesn’t need light to see Blaine’s face; he just knows.

 

Blaine smiles into the darkness, blinking his eyes and murmuring into the cool cotton of his pillowcase. “Ok, yeah, but…everything. All of this, all of it was yours and now…now…”

 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Kurt squeezes him tightly beneath his arm, his warm breath ghosting over Blaine’s cheek, shushing him, “and don’t even think about saying it out loud…”

 

Blaine smiles and rolls over, facing Kurt. “But…Kurt…you’ve just been so…all of this has just been…thank…”

 

“Nope!” Kurt calls out, and then Blaine finds himself rolled back onto his back, with Kurt warm and heavy and welcoming on top of him. “I said no. You’re not doing it; we’re not having this conversation.”

 

And then as if to finalize the point, Kurt seals it with a kiss. Melding their lips together with the occasional swipe of his tongue, stealing licks and sucks whenever he sees fit, until Blaine is loose and pliant, still and silent beneath him save for ragged, wanton breaths.

 

“O…Ok,” Blaine gasps when Kurt pulls back so that they’re nose to nose, digging his fingers behind Blaine’s shoulder blades and into the soft press of the mattress underneath them.

 

The conversation isn’t over for good; it may be paused for now, but it’s unfinished. Blaine has many words he needs to say, words that have built up in his head and in his heart, words he can taste on the back of his tongue, waiting to be spoken aloud. They are words that he has already spoken, things that Kurt has already heard him say, but now it’s different somehow. With the proposal come new meanings and new sentiments; it’s like the refurbishing of old words, polishing them up and setting them out in the open again.

 

Kurt knows this, too; Blaine knows he does, but it can wait. They have a lifetime of moments and words yet to share…together.

 

“What do _you_ want me to talk about then?” Blaine curls his arms around Kurt’s neck, resting them against the dip of his upper back and shoulders, rubbing in slow circles. 

 

Kurt looks down at Blaine eagerly, his face almost serene, eyes warm and easy; he waits a beat before he answers. “I want you to tell me what you meant at breakfast, when you asked if I had asked for your hand?”

 

Blaine stiffens beneath him. “Kurt I was joking…”

 

“I know you were,” Kurt murmurs, settling his body into the dip of the mattress between Blaine’s thighs and making himself comfortable, stomach to stomach. It’s so intimate, yet so basically natural. “But it must have been on your mind for you to talk about it. Come on; tell me what you were thinking, please.”

 

Blaine shifts to accommodate Kurt even more, allowing their bodies to relax into each other, becoming heavy with deep-drawn, tired though not quite sleepy, breaths. “I guess…it’s just weird to think about, you know?”

 

“Us getting married?”

 

“God, no!” Blaine hurries to say, shaking his head. “Marrying you is far from weird. The very thought of it makes me feel complete in ways that I…”

 

Kurt giggles lowly, and thrusts his hips downwards softly and slowly so that Blaine can just feel the tight press against his stomach and the tops of his thighs. “Come on, Mr. Sentimental, get back on track.”

 

Blaine blushes. “I mean you asking my dad, the thought of my dad being involved in our wedding, in our marriage in any kind of way, is weird. I didn’t expect you to ask him, and I just was teasing. I’m sorry…”

 

Kurt hushes him. “Are you ok that I didn’t ask him though?”

 

“What? Ask my dad? Of course I’m ok that you didn’t ask him. Actually, you and I both know I wouldn’t have wanted you to ask him. Tradition is tradition; I get that. But we’re grown men, Kurt. We can always follow up on some of the other wedding traditions.” He adds with a wiggle of his eyebrows and Kurt smiles widely.  “We know each other well, we’re sensible, and you know that my dad and I haven’t always seen eye to eye with each other…”

 

“The last couple of years have been better, though, right?”

 

“They have.” Blaine grins. “With thanks to you and your dad.” 

 

“I asked _him_.” Kurt blurts out.

 

“Huh?”

 

“My dad. I asked my dad…about it…about you.”

 

Blaine shuffles his torso upwards slightly—as much as he can with Kurt still on top of him—obviously unwilling to budge. “You asked _your father_ if you could marry _me_?” Blaine sounds almost incredulous, a slight crack to his voice, which is faltering between the beginnings of laughter and soft almost soundless moaning.

 

“Well not quite like _that_ ,” Kurt teases, gently easing Blaine back down the mattress, his hands guiding Blaine’s head back to the pillow and his fingers threading through his mussed up hair. “Before, you know, the big fallout…my dad and I were very close, like we are now, I guess. He always gave me the best, most insightful advice, and I just knew that I had to tell him what was on my mind before I asked you. So we talked about it on the phone one day when you with Andre. I asked what he thought; he was barely coherent enough to express how happy he was…” Blaine beams brightly, chuckling.

 

“…and then he told Carole, who then unintentionally told your mom…”

 

“…who told my dad!” Blaine guesses, blanching, his jaw tensing before going slack with surprise. “What was the outcome?” he just manages to ask, his voice rough.

 

Kurt touches his nose with Blaine’s, his fingers easing soothing circles into Blaine’s scalp. “He said we better hurry up and get our asses to Ohio. Your dad is hosting a celebratory barbeque when the weather gets warmer.”

 

Blaine hoists himself up with one swift, smooth movement, the muscles in his upper arms bulging with strength, rolling them over so that Kurt is beneath him. He presses little kisses through waves of laughter all over Kurt’s face and neck.

 

“God, do you know how happy you make me? How you’ve changed me? How you’ve helped change my family, too?” Blaine’s voice breaks, and Kurt takes the moment to interrupt him, caressing his face.

 

“You know that I could say the same about you, right?” Blaine blinks down at him. “Blaine, you know who I was, what I was like before you came into my life. As idiotic and difficult and distant as I sometimes can be, marrying you or at least asking you was definitely something I knew that I had to do, to make sure I never lose the contentment and stability—not to mention the sheer joy—you’ve given me.”

 

Blaine can literally feel the warmth rising from his soul to the blush on his cheeks. He sniffles and wipes at the beginning of tears that are leaking from beneath his eyelashes. “ _Had_ to do?” he asks in a tone of mock concern, once he’s collected himself a little.

 

Kurt gently pushes so that Blaine is sliding off of him and rolling back over to his side. He presses up close behind Blaine, chest to back once again, and tangles their arms and legs, mouthing at the tempting slope between his neck and shoulder.

 

“Wanted to. Needed to.” He hushes, seductively, his hips pushing upwards. “It all means the same thing to me, and it all egotistically stems from my very selfish, crucial wishes and desires to always have you close by.”

 

“A new contract…” Blaine gasps, and then he moans as Kurt’s hands flutter around the waistline of his pajama pants, his groin digging into the dip of Blaine’s ass. “You have me tangled within your contractual web.”

 

“Mmm-hmm.” Kurt’s fingers slip under the cotton of Blaine’s pants and find Blaine already growing hard, curling up into Kurt’s welcoming fist.

 

“Do…do I get a say?” Blaine grunts, hips moving of their own accord as he wiggles out of his pants and kicks them from under the covers down to the floor.

 

“You do.” Kurt trails a single finger between their writhing bodies, feather-lightly along the crack of Blaine’s ass cheeks as his fist slowly circles Blaine’s hardening cock, up and down and around. Tight, dry, and perfect. “But you better say the right words.”

 

Blaine almost loses it, crying out hoarsely as Kurt brushes a finger tip down over his perineum and then up again, circling towards his dry, already puckering hole. He throws his arm up and back enough to be able to card his fingers through Kurt’s thick upstanding hair, using his grip to guide Kurt’s face to his as he twists and turns with searching lips.

 

With breaths in staccato rhythm, he manages to whisper urgently into Kurt’s full mouth, “I’ll tell you at the altar.”

 

*

 

January was a transitional month. Although the hiring of Cooper as a Personal Assistant for Kurt and Blaine was pretty much a “done deal,” it was important to publicly advertise the position in order to maintain a sense of ethics within the company. And, of course, there was always a tiny chance of finding someone qualified for other positions that might open up. The position was advertised during the first couple of weeks in January and, as expected, Cooper’s employment was formalized soon after.

 

However, the ad actually had a joint purpose—to advertise for the PA position and to subtly announce their engagement. With a bit of tweaking here and there and, of course, Santana’s help, they had agreed that this was perhaps a more low key way of announcing their engagement, rather than having a magazine publicize it in a centerfold photo with tangled champagne flutes and a flashy view of Blaine’s ring. 

 

Cooper proved himself to be a capable, dedicated, and efficient employee, and Kurt and Blaine were pleasantly surprised when he discreetly arranged a weekend trip to Las Vegas as an engagement gift, with not a whiff of paparazzi in sight.   

 

Santana had taken the hiring of Cooper and the exciting new engagement as an opportunity to dive straight into her new role as publicist for Kurt Hummel Enterprises. She handled questions and exposure with effortless ease, guiding unwanted, snooping reporters away from them with just a lift of her chin and a deep, dark glare.

 

It really did make life a bit easier for Kurt and Blaine, especially with the added pressure of wedding planning because, despite their best efforts to keep everything low-key, it was inevitable that some adjustments had to be made.

 

Blaine hated to use the word, “pressure.” Planning the wedding with Kurt was certainly not an unwanted or obligated task, but it was hard to deny that things were sometimes testy with everything else they had on their plates.

 

Additionally, Blaine had really progressed in his work with Andre and, after discussing it at length with both Andre and Kurt, he felt ready to start his own production company. Although Andre was sad to lose Blaine as an unofficial partner, he also was very happy to see him take such a monumental step. He gave him a great send-off party, expressing his pleasure at seeing Blaine spread his wings while secretly feeling a bit like a proud mama bird.

 

Once the decision was made, Blaine had barely a moment to spare for worrying or stressing. While the company would be entirely his responsibility, he felt reassured by the fact that he would be sharing a work space that was housed in a new wing of the same building Andre used. With Andre still close by to help in any way he could and with Kurt’s emotional and professional support, Blaine used his savings and, after insisting on a formal loan contract, agreed to let Kurt lend him the balance to finance operating costs for the first few months. (Kurt insisted that it was a win-win situation; the interest Blaine would pay would be more than Kurt would earn in most investment opportunities, but less than Blaine would have had to pay for a commercial loan.) Blaine soon was ready to go with a brand spanking new production company and label, as well as with a fabulous team eager to succeed.

 

The first week of Blaine’s new business was filled with an astonishing number of calls, emails, and messages expressing interest. Blaine’s hectic schedule included meetings, practices, jam sessions, auditions, warm-ups, and rehearsals. His energy level was intense and positive during the work day, but those first nights often found him in Kurt’s arms, shedding tears of joy and relief as he whispered into his chest, over his heart, that he never would have achieved any of this without him. Kurt would murmur reassurances and, inevitably, the powerful emotions would give way to love-making—sometimes initiated by Kurt, and sometimes by Blaine. It was the best way to end every day.

 

Business is just _business_ really—regardless of whether it’s clothing or music. And both businesses thrived, gaining footholds in new markets and territories. Having two businesses kept everyone on their toes, and the days rapidly ran into weeks and months. January came and went; February followed. Blaine and Kurt were so busy that they spent their Valentine’s Day at home, late at night, picking from a shared chow mein carton, and afterwards finding endless fun in teasing Jester with the pre-packed chopsticks.

 

Soon the cool breezes of March ushered in the first signs of spring.

 

The seasons didn’t affect the press coverage, which continued, wanted or not. The reviews had been mixed, as they almost always are. Kurt and Blaine had sat with gritted teeth while Santana read through various articles, some of which accused Blaine of using Kurt’s fame to get his production company started. Others even added that he was now outpacing Kurt, but still was going to marry him for his wealth.

 

Some of the gossip magazines had started speculating about a prenuptial agreement, which prompted Blaine to tell Kurt he felt it actually might be a good idea. Kurt simply gave him that look—the one that said _we’re not even discussing this_ , and Blaine knew it would be best to drop the subject. Thinking Kurt may have softened on the idea a couple of weeks later, Blaine tried to broach the subject again—and received an even firmer glare, followed by a verbal negation from Kurt. That was the end of the discussion, such as it was.

 

In most cases, they were able to ignore the speculation of the press; in a couple of cases, they quietly filed lawsuits, and the journalists quickly retracted their allegations.

In the meantime, they delightfully found that the best way of dealing with feelings of anger and frustration was to up the action in the bedroom, the office, the car, and pretty much wherever they wanted.

 

Wrapping themselves in each other’s arms, touching and whispering, letting the touching and whispering escalate into thrusting and crying out as they brought each other to climax was undeniably one of the very best ways ever of dealing with stress brought to them by the outside world.

 

As Santana told Sam, Kurt and Blaine know the best way to say, “fuck you” to everyone without a life who pays too much attention to theirs.

 

*

 

During a rare weekday afternoon off, with the early March sun breaking through the clouds and trying helplessly to pour warmth in through the windows of the living room, Kurt scrolls through saved tabs on his tablet, smiling as Blaine shifts on his lap settling them deeper into the sofa cushions.

 

“Ooh there, stop—that one.” Blaine points to the screen, stealing Kurt’s glasses from his nose and holding them up to his own eyes as he peers down. “I like that one.”

 

“This one?” Kurt asks, using his thumb and finger to zoom in to the small picture on the screen.

 

“Yeah, could you make one like that? He’ll look so sweet.” Blaine absentmindedly stretches out a hand to Jester, who is curled up next to them, and softly pats him on the head.

 

They’re on the Pinterest site, currently searching through tags of “Wedding Ensembles for Cats.”

 

Ok, so Blaine and Santana had finally won the battle of Jester’s presence at the upcoming nuptials. He was not under any circumstances to have the role of ring bearer, but Kurt, with a sneaky grin and bright eyes, had divulged his wish to have their little buddy there on the big day—if he was appropriately groomed and attired.

 

The wedding planning had been slow but steady—and fun. The first thing they had decided was not to place any time limits or deadlines on anything, and to let things flow easily and happen when they were ready to do so.

 

There’s nothing worse than rushing something so natural and perfect because then it doesn’t feel right anymore. When rushed, it feels more like an obligation or necessity rather than an act of love.

 

And, although the timing wasn’t to be set in stone, they pretty much knew they’d probably get married no later than fall of that very same year—simply because it felt right and comfortable to do so. No matter the chaos and stress the planning could cause, they were still excited about it nonetheless; waiting any longer than the upcoming fall to get married just didn’t seem necessary.

 

It wasn’t to be a glittering, heavily publicized event with household names and designer fashions on display; that part was definitely certain. Therefore, all they needed to have ready were ideas of what they wanted and how and when; when the time was right they would do it, no save the dates, no uproar. 

 

Kurt had taken care of their suits, and Blaine was under strict instructions to not ask anything about them, not even a guess. It was to be a surprise, and that was that.

 

Santana had wrangled her way into helping select color themes, flowers and other little details for the reception, leaving Blaine and Sam with little to do but twiddle their thumbs and relax.

 

Kurt saves the tab and smiles at Blaine, reaching over him to scratch a spot between Jester’s ears. “Ok, a little cat tux-thing. I’ll see what I can do.”

 

“As if it’s not going to be fabulous,” Blaine scoffs, rolling his eyes.

 

Just then the hall elevator arrives opens with a ding, and Santana all but stumbles out in her haste to get to them. She’s wearing one of her casual office pant-suits that Kurt had tailored for her and a shit-eating grin on her face.

 

She points to the tablet in Kurt’s hands as she strides toward them. “Pull up that tabloid site, New York Gossip Now,” she demands.

 

Blaine slides down from Kurt’s lap. “You mean the one that’s constantly calling us fake and materialistic? The one that thinks I’m a lifelong loser with no prospects other than digging for gold?” he retorts, obviously upset, a look of disdain on his face.

 

Curiosity getting the better of him, Kurt already starts typing into the search engine but uses a shoulder to rub reassuringly into Blaine’s chest. “Ah. That article was ridiculous—as if I’m stupid enough to be taken in by a gold-digger. Do I look stupid to either of you?” he demands. “Besides, gold-diggers usually prey on rich old people; I may be a little rich, but I’m definitely not even a little old!”

 

Blaine pats his arm, calming him considerably, and then adds in a saccharine, lilting voice, “Oh Honey, you know I’m not after your fabulous wealth, only your fabulous self…among other things.” He lowers his voice, eyes travelling down Kurt’s clothed body. Santana clears her throat so loud that it’s comical. “Besides,” Blaine pauses dramatically, getting himself back on track “your crows’ feet hardly even show.” Kurt takes a playful swipe at him as Blaine erupts into laughter.

 

Santana continues clearing her throat until she starts to cough and sputter. She settles down on her knees on the floor in front of them. “Oh my god, ok quit screwing around, you two, and just read what comes up as the main headline today. I’ma need a raise after this.” She chides playfully.

 

The blog loads, starting with a recent picture of Kurt and Blaine dressed in coats and scarves, smiling into take-out coffee mugs, arms linked as they walked through Central Park. They can’t avoid every camera, and by the look of joy and ease on their faces, they obviously hadn’t spied this guy.

 

“Oh my,” Kurt breathes as the headline pops up, and the article appears underneath it. Blaine sits up, angling his face to stare down at the screen, offering Kurt his glasses back.

 

The piece is lengthy and weighted with carefully structured sentences, and as Blaine skims the paragraphs, words such as “joy,” “love,” and “genuine happiness” jump out at him.

 

“Here, let me,” Santana reaches forward and snatches the tablet from Kurt’s hands. She clears her throat dramatically.

 

“‘New York Gossip Now’ is happy to share something that will undoubtedly make the coldest of hearts melt—including ours, here at NYGN HQ.” She starts, looking up to gauge their reactions.

 

“Santana, I don’t think that we need to…” Blaine starts, as Kurt waves a cautionary hand at her in agreement.

 

“No, please, just listen. Trust me.” Her voice is uncharacteristically soft and filled with empathy, eyes wide and bright and so pleading that Kurt and Blaine can’t help but settle back and let her continue.

 

“The relationship of renowned designer Kurt Hummel and the previously unknown, but now-rising-to-stardom musical whiz Blaine Anderson has always been one of interest to us. And not always in the most positive of ways, we will admit.

 

“From colleagues, to lovers, to fiancés, these two have provided our readers with some stellar gossip and pictures to match. Their relationship may have been a whirlwind and like something out of a romance novel or fantasy, and we were first in line to doubt their true intentions. However, the evidence seems overwhelming, and now even _we_ have to admit that there is something that these two have that most of those other ego-fed, power-hungry, and loved-up duos don’t.

 

“Hope.

 

“Through rough and tough, thick and thin, these two have remained together, side by side, within their professional lives as well as their personal ones. While even ordinary, non-famous couples and relationships will feel the strain of day-to-day living, these two seem able to iron out any difficulties with ease.

 

“Whether they’re seen in person or in photos or videos, it’s hard to deny that they bring their individual strengths together to create an extremely powerful chemistry as a couple. They seem to communicate on many levels—often using just a gaze of their eyes that leaves many of us panting and fanning ourselves.

 

“With recent rumors spreading of an impending wedding, we have been waiting with bated breaths for ‘leaked’ news of the event to grace our eyes and ears. But nothing has been forthcoming. *sighs*

 

“Kurt and Blaine are marrying for them and not for us, and although our hearts bleed with the prospect of not getting in on this exciting story, we would like to wish these two the very best and longest of lives together.

 

“May their lasting love and happiness spread joy and hope to all, and let it set an example for our youths of today: Successful relationships—love—can occur when and with whom you might least expect it and, if nurtured, not only will the love grow naturally between two people, but it will, in turn, help those two people grow as individuals and as a couple. And these two handsome role models seem to fit the bill for this very nicely.

 

“To the future Mr. and Mr. Hummel-Anderson (or vice versa), we wish you the best of luck, and we just know that this wedding, whether private or not, will be one to go down in history.

 

“P.S. At least give us some teeny-weeny clues as to when and where you’re getting hitched? 

 

“NYGN Exclusive” 

 

Santana finishes with a rush of breath and a small smile attaching itself to her lips as she puts the tablet down on the floor beside her. When she looks up, her eyes are so very round and wide and clear; she’s visibly touched, and there’s a look of pride about her.

 

Blaine opens his mouth, closes it, opens and then closes it again, words traveling from his brain to his tongue without a voice to accompany them. He licks his lips and swallows hard, and only then does he feel Kurt shift underneath him.

 

At some point during Santana’s monologue Blaine must have migrated back up on to Kurt’s lap, with Kurt’s arms tucked tight around his waist. Kurt quietly sniffles, and when Blaine looks at him, both sets of eyes are shining, lips quivering slightly.

 

“Whoa,” Kurt breathes.

 

Blaine bends down and tucks his face into Kurt’s neck. “Yeah,” he mumbles.

 

“Told’ya,” Santana sing songs, some of her sass returning.

 

“I feel like I’ve just been accepted into some exclusive super group for actual, genuine people, with real lives and morals,” Kurt breathes.

 

Blaine chuckles into Kurt’s skin, pressing a faint kiss there before sitting up to look him right in the eye.

 

“They’re right, you know,” he whispers, completely ignoring Santana’s presence.

 

“About what?”

 

“This wedding _is_ going to go down in history—the wedding of all weddings. This marriage, _our_ marriage is going to go down in history,” he breathes, “and you know what else?”

 

“What?” Kurt breathes back, a smile spreading, curling right up to his sparkling, moisture-filled eyes.

 

“They’re not even going to be there, and they’re still going to love it. Know why?” he murmurs huskily, leaning in, eyes darting between Kurt’s eyes and his lips.

 

“Why?” Kurt giggles out through something that sounds remarkably like a broken sob. Neither man notices when Santana makes a noise of mixed annoyance and boredom and takes off towards the bar.

 

“Because we are awesome.”

 

Kurt laughs, smacking a loud messy kiss on to Blaine’s cheek, grinning widely as Santana takes her hastily prepared drink and, with a derisive yet softly sentimental scoff, disappears through the back kitchen door.

 

She’s obviously unimpressed by the lack of attention and appreciation for her stellar work in landing them a refreshingly upbeat article for a change—even if it still smacks of prying into their personal lives.

 

“Can I tell you something?” Kurt whispers, looking up at Blaine and losing himself in the darkening honey-hued irises looking deeply back at him.

 

“What?” Blaine mouths, grinning and blushing prettily.

 

Even though they are now at a place where they couldn’t care less about what is said or printed and wrongly assumed about them, there is just something so liberating about hearing such positive words about them—words that are much closer to the truth than anything those blogs have chosen to print about them before.

 

It’s such a drastic change from the usual trash and diatribes that are written or said about them that they’re clearly touched, both filled with such raw but joyous emotion.

 

“I’m not giving anyone any clue about where or when I wish to marry you.”

 

Blaine’s face lights up. “Oh yeah? Not even me?”

 

“Not even you. I know just the time and place, and those sour-faced reporters will think we’ve gone completely off the radar.”

 

Blaine giggles. “Mmm, I’m intrigued Mr. Hummel.”

 

“And so you should be.”

 

“Will I like this mystery wedding setting?”

 

“Hmm,” Kurt echoes back at him, looking thoughtful. “I think that you’ll like it very, very much.”

 

“I like _you_ ,” Blaine grins, squinting his eyes and tossing his head back laughing heartily.

 

“That’s good to know. I like you, too.”

 

“I _love_ you more, though,” Blaine whispers, cupping Kurt’s face to pull him closer to his lips.

 

“Stop buttering me up; you’ll find out what I’m planning all in good time.”

 

Blaine barks out a laugh, throwing his hands up in the air in mock defeat. Kurt stills Blaine’s hands, pulls him in close, and folds their hands to rest between their chests.

 

“Let’s just say you should be sure to pack your Wellingtons…”       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to everybody for hanging on in there with this story, and also a huuuge thank you to AncientGleek who had offered to take a look at this chapter for me and has been an absolute star and a supportive friend.


	15. Chapter 15

Blaine was surprised and overwhelmed when Kurt finally told him, casually over breakfast one showery April weekend morning, that he wanted them to get married in August in England—on the site of their holiday home, no less, set in the idyllic Yorkshire countryside.

The idea immediately filled Blaine with so much warmth that he thought he might just burst with it. What a perfect, fantastic idea—and god, why did he not guess? Why did he not think of it? He could already feel the stress of past weeks being replaced with pure joy, and he found himself laughing at the whole, wild notion of doing something so radically different from what they originally had planned and from what everyone had expected.

The peace and serenity of the country moors, endless rolling hills of greens and goldens—how wonderful it would be—to have his lungs filled with fresh, earthy air, not polluted with chemicals and fumes of the everyday working city. 

Yes, the U.K. is notorious for its U-turn weather spells, and Kurt had been right to suggest that their female guests may want to match their maxi dresses with a nice pair of dressy mud boots as well as dress shoes, just to be prepared. But this year’s August had been predicted to expect (hopefully) a warm dry spell with temperatures of up to about 90F/32C. (That’s pretty toasty compared to previous summers.) Just as he has advised his guests to be prepared for almost any type of weather, Kurt has taken steps to ensure the ceremony and reception also will be prepared by arranging for a large pavilion and transformed barn/reception hall as locations where they will speak their vows and celebrate afterwards.

And, as much as the gossip sites and magazines deserve credit for their relentless and diligent work in trying to dig up information for a sensational scoop, after all this time they still have failed to find out the specific destination of their English hide-away or even the date of the ceremony.

The delicious notion that there would be no one snooping around, no unwanted camera flashes or videos being made, plus the idea of how perfect and different their special day would be has Blaine literally bouncing on his toes with excitement. 

Truly, if someone had told Blaine three years ago that he would be marrying a successful designer—who was well-known for his diva mood swings and his love of luxury, no less—in the middle of an English countryside, Blaine seriously would have doubted their sanity.

It’s all so unlike Kurt—the Kurt he met and fell in love with—yet at the same time, it so totally _is_. It _is_ like the Kurt that Blaine gets to talk to, and hold on to, to look at, and taste and touch everyday.

His Kurt. Not the media’s Kurt.

So it’s quite understandable that Blaine can’t hold back his smile amidst a small eruption of giggles when Kurt, with his bottom lip tugged between his teeth, eyes squinting with concentration, quickly sketches his ideas and presents them proudly. Blaine is constantly amazed at Kurt’s artistic talents, but to see their dream come to life from his fiancé’s very own imagination is a rare treat.

There, in front of his very eyes, on one of the many specially-ordered sketch pads Kurt keeps on hand for when inspiration strikes, is what appears to be a white, oversized tent in the middle of a vast pencil-shaded grassy area surrounded by strange-looking, cotton puffs with stick legs. Blaine soon realizes the tent is actually a grand marquee, which can be open to the fresh air if the weather is fine or more enclosed for inclement weather, and the “cotton puffs on sticks” are sheep that graze nearby, keeping the grass as neatly trimmed as any lawn mower.

Blaine can’t resist; he wraps his arms around Kurt’s shoulders and plants a kiss on the corner of his fiancé’s lips, which is all that seems possible for now because, when they both try to deepen the kiss, they erupt into laughter.

The research process then develops into almost a dance as they take turns pulling up information from various searches and switch back and forth to look at each other’s computer monitors.

And, almost before they know it, they’re packed and sitting hand-in-hand on an eight hour flight, eager for the real preparations to begin.

Sandra and John from the nearby farm meet them for lunch soon after they arrive and, while discussing what seems to be an almost overwhelming amount of detail, it soon becomes apparent that they are a veritable cornucopia of information about local options. First they tell them of a neighbor’s barn that had been transformed and remodelled for special events. They also have a relative who owns an events-planning company, who can help with the hiring and planning of almost anything they need.

Upon further discussion, Kurt and Blaine feel reassured that confidentiality and discretion will be a top priority of all involved parties; Kurt has known the couple for a long time and has every bit of trust in them and in their judgment. 

The following months in New York are challenging, to say the least, but Sandra and John also have introduced them to Moira, a very helpful wedding coordinator (although she has a thick Yorkshire accent that sometimes means they need to have things repeated via email or text so they can make sure they understand her correctly). With all the local support, they feel comfortable and kept in the loop, so to speak.

Of course, Santana grumbles about the idea of an English-countrified wedding at first, whining about all the grand places in the city or on the outskirts they could choose for their wedding instead, or somewhere even farther afield that requires the application of a high-factored sun block. She moans and groans about all of the beautiful wedding boutiques and vintage stores in New York that Kurt won’t let her go anywhere near until the day when Kurt’s patience runs thin, and she’s banished from the office. However, after letting her into his storeroom to explore the fabrics he’s considering for her dress, she soon decides she’s going to be the best-dressed woman there, no matter where “there” is.

After that Santana is suddenly very taken with the idea of everyone flying over the ocean to gather in a farmer’s field and then drink and dance to the sounds of cattle lowing and sheep bleating in the distance. She finds herself falling in love with the many images she’s pulled up in her head of what she envisions it’s going to be like. She takes it upon herself to take care of the invitations, making it one of her primary duties and taking heed of Kurt’s warnings and Blaine’s preferences.

As a result, the invitations are worded exactly as they wished in a simple yet elegant font, and on fine stationery that complements the color theme of the wedding. In the end, after the invitations are finalized and sent out, Santana helps out in so many other ways that Kurt and Blaine find themselves unable to thank her enough for all of her energy and enthusiasm towards their special day.

Love really _can_ change people, after all.

Much to Sam’s disappointment, his grand plans for the bachelor parties have been nipped in the bud. He can’t deny that he’s not surprised. Instead he, Santana, Cooper and some of their co-workers from the A-H organization have arranged an exclusive, private dinner in one of Kurt’s favorite restaurants, with a trip to Blaine’s most loved piano bar afterwards to sing and dance and drink the night away.

After celebrating long past midnight, the four of them eventually pass out in the condo’s living area, sprawling all over the sofas and each other after sharing teary, somewhat slurred declarations of fondness and gratitude for each other.

Hours later with raging headaches, still warily nibbling their way through a concoction of breakfast foods, Kurt and Blaine agree that the evening had been the best send-off anyone could have asked for. 

*****

The end of July in the city is almost unbearably hot and humid, and this nearly always makes it harder to focus on work. Although the days are longer, brighter and lighter, people tend to expect more, but work less, their moods often are irritated, hot and bothered and deflating by the second.

Kurt and Blaine have always both strived and thrived during summers gone by, their professional reputations and experience expanding with ease; but this summer? It’s just not the case. They have no one to impress, nothing to prove to anyone but themselves. With two successful businesses to their names and a happy, loving relationship, all that they have left to focus on is what’s important. And what’s important right now? One very special day coming up in their rapidly nearing future.

Everything and everyone else can simply wait.

This day is something that neither man had expected or even dared to hope for. Neither man had thought this very day would be a possibility in their futures; yet now it’s almost the only thing they can think about. It seems as if everything in their lives has been adding up to this one unexpected, yet so significant day.

They spend the last few days of the month working towards _that_ day, tying up loose ends and readying themselves mentally and physically for the event itself and a much anticipated vacation (honeymoon!) afterward.

*

It’s a warm, dry afternoon when Sam pulls up to the curb outside of one of several performing arts centers in Queens; it’s the last stop of the day before heading back to the condo. Blaine looks out of the window from his seat in the back of the car, out to the bustling, sunlit streets, and up to the building where he used to devote so much of his time and effort; it still feels like just yesterday.

Queens—where Blaine lived for several years, trying to break into the music business, but remaining one of the many unknown performers on street corners and in coffee shops and bars. It’s where he started out; it’s where he tried, and it’s where he initially failed. It’s also where he succeeded. His small but comfy Queens home, with a stray dancing kitten for a roommate, was where he spent his days, often feeling lost and lonely, unsure.

Blaine is nudged out of his reverie by Cooper, who’s sitting beside him with a somewhat confused look on his face. “Are we getting out…or…?”

Cooper’s work schedule for today is simply designated, “Bro Day.” His duties basically consist of following Blaine around, assisting with notes and paperwork, and playing on the Draw Something app with Sam.

Blaine has hesitated long enough that Sam has exited his driver’s position and opened the door for him and Cooper to step onto the curb. Blaine looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and Sam quirks the corner of his mouth up as he responds to the unspoken comment. “I know, I know—you can open your own door, but I needed to stretch my legs anyway. You guys won’t be long in there right? I’ll just wait here for you rather than circling the block or finding a parking lot.”

Blaine nods and smiles his thanks, rolling his eyes as Cooper jokes, “Thank you, my good man,” as they step onto the sidewalk. Sam closes the car door behind them gently, making sure their briefcases and laptop bags are safely stowed out of sight of casual passers-by.

Blaine straightens himself as Cooper sidles up beside him and takes a deep breath of city air—Queens air. The place where it all started for him. The air he would breathe day in and day out as he trudged up and down the streets, with his guitar case strapped to his back.

And now Blaine has returned, three years later, back to the very streets where he sat with an old cap and his trusty guitar, performing—essentially begging for people to listen to him, to like him, to want him.

Only now it’s as if he’s on the other side of an invisible pane of glass. Once he would have been hanging around the center, looking for jobs, for any sign of people showing interest in his work and his talent. But now—now he’s looking up at the building with a light in his eyes and a determination in his heart that he once thought was long gone.

“You know, I don’t know if I actually have properly thanked you and Kurt for the opportunities you’ve given me,” Cooper says quietly from Blaine’s side, while pensively looking around.

“Huh?” Blaine asks, surprised at the quiet interruption of his daydreaming and reminiscing. He turns to face Cooper with an unsure look on his face.

“You know, B,” Cooper shrugs, his shoulders tightening in his smart, tailored cream-colored suit. “Just…you…you came from here, you lived here, you worked so hard and you…well, it wasn’t easy for you to get where you wanted, but you never gave up. You may have U-turned and come at it from a completely different direction, but you’re still here, you know—where you want to be. You did it. And because of that, because of how awesome you truly are, you’ve brought me right here with you, presenting me with all these cool jobs and gigs…and, you know, just…thank you.” He shrugs again, his eyes staring down at a gum-spotted piece of sidewalk.

Blaine blames the sudden dampness in his eyes on city grit borne by a gust of summer wind; he blinks a few times. “C-Cooper…,” he breathes, completely facing his brother now, who still won’t look at him, and who also is blinking rapidly.

“No, Blaine, listen to me; just accept it please. I’m so, _so_ happy for you, and for Kurt, for you both together. He’s an awesome guy, and I know that I made jokes in the beginning, but he’s not just a famous rich guy, you know; he’s so much more than that…”

“Of course he is,” Blaine smiles nodding; he scratches at the curls gathering at his temple, to give his fingers something to do other than swipe obviously at his leaking eyes. “You know I also have _you_ to thank for helping Kurt and me get to where we are now, just days from our wedding. You remember my birthday on the beach in LA, our little talk…”

Before Blaine can finish, he’s wrapped up in a one-armed hug, with his face mashed to Cooper’s chest. And then there’s silence—a comfortable, quiet, moment between two brothers, simply held in each other’s arms.

There’s much they could say to each other right now—many thanks and expressions of gratitude passed back and forth. Cooper was, after all, the one who introducedBlaine to Andre. Of course, partly because of this, Kurt had been pretty hell bent on giving Cooper the PA position and helping to raise his public profile as a result.

After a moment, they pull away, patting at each other’s arms and backs, and straightening out their jackets with big, if slightly embarrassed smiles.

There’s a check folded up, securely hidden within the silk inner pocket of Blaine’s suit jacket, already signed, just waiting to be filled out with the appropriate information. Waiting to be given, to be donated, to unsuspecting people who just need a break, like he did.

He really has come full circle, in such a short space of time, and there really is only one reason for that.

Blaine smiles to himself, pulling his phone from his pocket and swiping through to his recent messages, as Cooper meanders over to the main entrance, making eye contact with every passerby just to see if he’ll be recognised (some things never change).  Kurt’s eyes, so big and bright and vibrant, stare back up at Blaine from the thumbnail on the corner of his phone’s screen.

It was here, in Queens, that Blaine had inquired into a job about which he knew absolutely nothing. Taking a leap of faith (along with a bit of _what do I have to lose?_ attitude), he went to an interview for a job that was so scarily different from the world he was used to.

It was here where he was first introduced to Kurt’s world and everything that goes with it. And oddly enough, as out of his depth and lost and alone as he’d felt, he’d had his safety net all along, right from the very beginning.

Kurt was— _is_ his safety net. And, as it turned out, he was— _is_ Kurt’s.

Kurt pushed and pulled him, dangled him like bait in front of the daring, dangerous jaws of his very own dreams. But he never once let him fall. If he wobbled out of line, they wobbled together and brought each other back to stability. Always.

His thumb flies over the screen as he steps closer to the main entrance, happily swaying to the beat of some kid sitting on a nearby wall with a steel drum and a harmonica attached to his face with a metal frame.

_To Kurt:_

_I’m in Queens, thinking about you. I love you so much! You know that, right? XX_

He only has time to dig all of his loose change and a few bills from his pants pocket, jog over to the kid’s little change bucket, and back to the door of the building where Cooper is waiting with a knowing smile, when his phone buzzes in his hand.

_From Kurt:_

_What have we talked about? No lovey-dovey stuff during work hours._

Blaine chuckles quietly to himself, nodding to the old security guard who politely holds the door open for him and Cooper as they step inside to the main lobby.

_To Kurt:_

_I’m not on your time. I’m on my time! X!X!_

_From Kurt:_

_Well in that case…would I be marrying you if I didn’t know that? I’m going to say ditto and end this right here, before we get text-inappropriate like that time at the dentist! Stop reminiscing and get back home to me please; we have a wedding to get to!_

_To Kurt:_

_Ok, boss man! See you soon; I won’t be long. xoxo_

Blaine shakes his head with a smile, heading over to the center’s business offices with Cooper in tow, wherethe director of finance has been expecting him. Blaine’s mouth widens into a grin as he feels his heart swell with gratitude—not just for Kurt, but for the twists that have turned his life around so much that he’s now able to give a substantial donation to this center, as well as the several they’ve already visited. He’s come full circle, and hopefully his donations will help other struggling but talented young people find and achieve their goals, as he has.

As he leaves the center, Blaine glances at the final text Kurt sent him while he was making his final donation of the day. The message was simple and to the point—a long row of heart emojis. With quickening steps and an even brighter smile, Blaine steps towards the waiting car that will return him to his fiancé.

*

Kurt huffs out a soft, breathy laugh at the sound of his father’s exasperated voice sounding from his phone. He rubs at his forehead as he leans back in his office chair, feeling a twinge of pressure there. With Blaine out of the office during their last work day before a three-week vacation period, there is still a steady stream of tasks to complete; yet Kurt just can’t seem to get himself into work mode. It’s so very unlike him.

“So you’re all set then, Dad, really? All packed, got your passport…”

“Why are you talking to me like a ten year old kid who’s never flown a day in his life, Kurt?” Burt’s voice chuckles gruffly from the phone.

“I know, I know. Sorry, Dad. It’s just…there’s so much…we leave tomorrow _._ _Tomorrow,_ Dad, and then when we get there we have to meet with Moira to go over the seating arrangements one last time, and I swear to god, if it dares to rain and spoils the grass…”

“Kurt, Kurt! Whoa, kid.” Burt laughs again. “Yes, I’m fully aware that tomorrow we fly to another country, and then we’ll have another day of running around like headless chickens before a very, very memorable day. Calm down, I know you’re just all wedding-ed up.”

“‘Wedding-ed up?’ Really, Dad?”

“All I’m saying, Kiddo, is that I know you—how you are and how you get. I’m just teasing you. I think that you’ve done pretty remarkably to get so close to the wedding without freaking out or giving the media something to go crazy for.”

“Gee, thanks, Dad—I think.” Kurt laughs again, any troubles or worries already fading with each passing second. Talking to his dad has always been a source of comfort—and probably will be, no matter how old or successful he becomes.

“I’m serious, Kurt; I’m proud of you. Proud of both you, but really, so incredibly proud of you, kid. I know I’ve said that before, but I don’t know if you always believed me, and I hope that you believe me when I say it now. You may have had a hard game to play in the beginning, but you got there in the end, bud; you won. And your prize? It’s priceless, it’s…”

“It’s Blaine,” Kurt whispers through a tightening throat, clenching his eyes shut, smiling through tightly pressed lips.

“No, it’s not,” Burt says quietly, his tone not unkind. “Marrying Blaine is not your prize for kicking life’s butt, Kurt. Blaine is what and who you deserve. You two belong together for so many different weird and wonderful reasons. And no matter what life you’ve lived, who you are, or what you’ve achieved, you will always deserve each other. Your prize, Kurt, is this remarkable life you’ve built for yourself as well as a joint future with an equally remarkable man.”

“Dad…I…thank you.”

“No, thank _you_ , Kurt. Thank you for being the son I always knew you were even when you thought you weren’t. Thank you for being my perfect, incredible son. And you _know_ your mom will be there walking down that aisle with you right? You know that?”

Despite his own doubts about a deity, Kurt honestly feels this special moment with his dad and, without hesitation, he softly replies, “Yeah, Dad, I…I know that.”

Kurt closes the lid of his laptop, realizing that he’s not going to get much else accomplished for the rest of the day as he shifts to rise from his desk.

“Good,” his dad continues. “I love you. Tell that fiancé of yours that I love him, too. Carole and I will see you both in around eighteen hours, ok, kid?”

The office door opens, and Blaine walks in, a welcome sight indeed. He places his keys, phone, briefcase and other work paraphernalia on the desk. Kurt moves around his desk, smiling as Blaine looks up, frowning momentarily at the redness of Kurt’s clear, but happy, sparkling eyes.

“Yeah, ok, Dad, I will. Love you; give my love to Carole. See you soon.”

“Everything ok?” Blaine asks quietly, watching as Kurt ends the call and places the phone down alongside Blaine’s on the desk.

“Everything’s perfect,” Kurt replies, and the easy tone of his voice leaves no reason for Blaine to doubt him. He drapes his arms around Blaine’s shoulders, tugging him in tight and close. “Somebody loves you, by the way.”

“Aw, I love your dad and Carole, too.” Blaine grins, eyes dark and dancing playfully.

“Somebody else loves you, too.” Kurt softly bops his nose down against Blaine’s.

Blaine breathes out a happy sigh, ducking to tuck his head under Kurt’s chin. “You know, I don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing that.”

“You should be used to it by now,” Kurt murmurs, swaying their bodies gently together from side to side.

_Never_ , Blaine thinks. He doubts he’ll ever get used to what it means to feel so whole and unbelievably happy, when once he never thought that he would. Sometimes he’s still afraid that if he sinks too far into that realm of comfort, he could be tossed back out at any moment, like a carpet pulled out from under his feet.

As if reading his mind, Kurt murmurs against Blaine’s temple, kissing him softly. “Actually, you know I don’t think I’ll get used to it…used to _us_ , either. We’re too good together. So let’s just be helpless and hopeful together, huh?”

Blaine can feel the imprint of Kurt’s small smile against his hairline. “Yeah, always,” he breathes, a pitch of awe in his tone. “Together. Helplessly and hopefully, always and forever.”

Kurt laughs a trail of light kisses down Blaine’s face to his waiting lips. “Oh, there he is! I was wondering when Mr. Sentimental would show up…”

“Oh, you were, were you?” Blaine murmurs, his voice taking on a tone of deep huskiness as he slowly pulls back and away from Kurt’s searching lips. He twines his fingers through Kurt’s and starts to pull him forward, walking them toward the office door. “And why is that?” he asks, his pupils dilating and chasing the amber of his irises as his gaze flits between Kurt’s hooded eyes and his full pink lips.

Catching on, Kurt slinks forward with him, hips rolling from side to side, his fingers curling and gliding against Blaine’s skin, flirtatious, seductive, wanting. “Because,” Kurt starts as he crowds into Blaine’s space, backing him over the threshold into the main hallway and toward the staircase, “I think I’m in the mood for some good ol’ fashioned lovin’.” He winks, and Blaine helplessly giggles, loosing his sexy façade and takes off towards the staircase, Kurt’s hand firmly held in his.

By the time they set foot through their bedroom door on the second floor, Kurt’s shirt is unbuttoned almost all the way, and Blaine’s jacket is long gone. There’s a trail of shoes and socks randomly scattered behind them on the carpet and the sound of belts being whipped through belt loops, followed by soft thumps as belts and buckles being carelessly tossed aside.

“Can you do that?” Kurt whispers around Blaine’s lips as two pairs of hands get to work, ridding each other of the rest of their clothes.

“Hmm?” his fiancé replies, rutting his hips up involuntarily as Kurt’s hands slide Blaine’s pants over the swell of his ass, guiding them down his thighs. “Do what, Babe?” Blaine’s hands take over when he’s left standing in just a pair of boxers, grabbing at Kurt’s clothed body in search of bare skin like something possessed.

Kurt moans as Blaine finishes stripping him of the rest of his clothes, and the now naked skin of his back is met with the cool comfort of their bed covers. Blaine carefully lowers him to the bed, shimmying out of his boxers and stretching his own body over Kurt’s, so they’re both fully flesh to flesh.

“Love me,” Kurt breathes. “Just…make love to me, Blaine.”

“Always,” Blaine groans, kissing him full on the mouth and then trailing his lips lovingly down Kurt’s jaw and neck, spending extra time and attention there before moving on to his collarbone. “God— _always_. You never have to ask…not ever.” He continues to kiss, lick, nip, and suck his way to Kurt’s left nipple, circling it with his tongue, and teasing the other with his fingers.

Kurt is gasping and clutching at Blaine’ shoulders and then his hair, as Blaine continues to mouth his way down to Kurt’s belly.

It’s like Matrix speed, the world slowly spinning around them, but all they see, all they know in this moment is each other. Blaine pauses and raises up before proceeding any further, resting on his forearms as he stares down at Kurt, a look of love and longing and lust in his eyes. He glances at the marks left by some of his love bites, but his eyes just naturally are drawn to Kurt’s. Blaine never tires of the intensity of the color or of the emotion he sees in those eyes, and now he sees his love reflected exponentially.

Kurt knows the warmth he feels is more from the love they share than from the warm sun that’s coming through the open blinds, spreading onto the bed in large wedges and spilling onto the carpet.

Kurt’s heart hasn’t stopped thudding in his chest, and his breath continues to catch—especially when he looks at Blaine. The sunlight is always good to his fiancé, and he looks positively glorious like this, in the golden light, all naked and bronze, toned chest and strong arms. He looks ready, _so_ ready to just take Kurt, take him apart inch by inch and build him back up again using only his own body and his love.

“This could _…oh_ …this could be the _…ah_ …the last time we do this…” Kurt manages to whisper as Blaine breaks his own gaze away and stretches across him to reach into the nightstand drawer.

After a quick fumble for their trusty bottle of lubricant, dropping it to the mattress beside them, Blaine returns to hovering above Kurt. He looks down at him with such a look of confusion that Kurt would laugh out loud if he weren’t still gasping for air.

“Sex? The last time we have sex? Wha…just…what?”

Kurt smirks, reaches for the lube, uncaps the bottle and dribbles some over his fingers, letting the cool substance slide and trickle between his fingers, almost playfully, as he draws out the moment.

“Before we’re married, Blaine. This is probably the last time we’re going to have sex as fiancés.”

Blaine positively beams as Kurt’s words sink in, but his grin is short-lived, and his breath stutters out of him as Kurt lowers his hand to Blaine’s hip, down and over until he connects with his already-hard cock. Kurt grasps it within his slippery fist, tenderly at first and then with more vigor. As Blaine begins thrusting into his hand, Kurt uses all the special little movements he knows will tease Blaine into a state of incoherency.

“We _…ah…yes!…_ we…uh, we won’t… _Kurt!_ …be like this… _oh!..._ again…before the wedding?” Blaine’s words are barely intelligible, deliciously raspy and hoarse, his eyes widening and then closing with every squeeze and twist of Kurt’s fingers.

“Never say never, Honey,” Kurt grins, biting his lip, his own hips jolting upwards, chasing after the movement of Blaine’s. His own dick is hard and waiting, at least somewhat patiently, the swollen head bouncing off of his tight stomach. “But we’ll be surrounded by everyone pretty much from the moment we step off that plane, if they have their way then…”

“Ok, got it,” Blaine gasps. “Sshh, no more talking of abstinence and just… _god Kurt!...mmm…”_  

“What? What do you need, Blaine?” Kurt slows his hand, drags a finger down the length of Blaine’s shaft, circling his balls, tracing the shape of his tightening sac, moving his fingers down and in, lightly trailing towards Blaine’s perineum and then the crack of that full, gorgeous ass.

Blaine lowers his face toward Kurt, who automatically lifts his head, meeting him for the offered kiss. He captures Kurt’s hand, preventing him from continuing to “let his fingers do the walking” and, tangling their fingers together, Blaine gently but firmly traps Kurt’s hands, pinning them to the mattress on each side of his head.

“Not yet,” Blaine whispers, dotting butterfly kisses all over Kurt’s face, down his neck to his chest and back again. “First, I’m going to love you, love you just like this.” Kurt had, after all, asked him to make love to him, not the other way around, and he _really_ wants to make this special.

Of course, it’s always special when they’re like this together. But there’s something about _this_ moment, their last time together like _this_ before their impending nuptials, something that seems to make _this_ moment even more exceptional than all of the other times before.

Kurt is asking him to do something for him, to give him something and, somewhat paradoxically, to take him. And Blaine will not disappoint. Regardless of how much or how often Blaine enjoys having Kurt hard and full inside of him, he’s just as excited and fulfilled by _this_ , when given the opportunity—the opportunity to wreck Kurt in all of the very best ways. The man whom he once thought was off limits, is now the man who is his, and only his.

“Be my guest,” Kurt drawls, still a little breathless. Blaine presses his hips down against Kurt’s in affirmation and, after trading a few more kisses through moans and groans and helpless smiles, he sets about his task with new determination.

With Kurt naked and pliant beneath him, spread out and ready and waiting, Blaine takes his time. He shifts more to the side and then duplicates Kurt’s earlier actions, covering his fiancé’s straining cock with licks and strokes and tiny kisses, tenderly rolling his balls, and then, releasing Kurt’s hands, he lets his fingers travel—oh so slowly—to his perineum, vaguely aware that he’s mimicking Kurt’s earlier attempt with him.

He pauses just long enough to apply small dollops of lubricant to his fingers, quickly warming them before beginning to stroke the sensitive area, making occasional teasing movements towards the final destination, but always drawing back, until Kurt is whining in frustration.

Blaine continues stroking, knowing that he’s successfully massaging Kurt’s prostate, giving him a taste of what is yet to come, when Kurt begins to arch and thrust even more, gasping and moaning. Blaine almost can’t help himself—he leans down and kisses Kurt, then lets his lips travel once again as he tongues one of Kurt’s pebbled nipples and continues mouthing downwards. Blaine has to restrain himself from sinking his mouth onto Kurt’s cock because he also has to restrain Kurt, who is beginning to thrust and thrash more wildly, seeking either more friction on his cock or to maneuver Blaine’s fingers towards his straining hole.

Relenting, Blaine adds a little more lube and, grinning and murmuring wordlessly, begins softly stroking the puckering opening of Kurt’s asshole, spreading and gliding, and finally pushing one fingertip in achingly slowly, drawing out a long groan from his lover writhing underneath him. As soon as he feels Kurt’s muscle relax, he pushes in a little farther.

Kurt cries out for “more!” and “deeper!” so Blaine obliges him, inserting another finger and stroking carefully. Kurt’s impatience is contagious, however, and by the time he’s three fingers deep, brushing the pads of his fingers against Kurt’s swollen and sensitive prostate, Blaine’s own cock is curling, leaking at the tip and jutting out impatiently.

As his fingers work and Kurt wriggles beneath him, sighing out his name in breathless pleas, Blaine smiles down at him, his eyes shining with a slight shimmer from the love he has for this man. He savors this delicious moment in time, wanting it to last forever, as he waits for what he knows will come next _._

“Yes, Blaine, _oh yes…please!_ ” Kurt keens beneath him, his body moving with the flow of Blaine’s fingers, like some well-rehearsed, perfectly memorized dance between them. Blaine feels beyond privileged to see Kurt fall apart so freely with him, and he can’t help but feel a sense of pride that _he’s_ the one responsible for bringing Kurt this much pleasure and the feeling of safety he knows accompanies it.

Blaine doesn’t think he’ll ever quite get used to this—this sharing of love and lust and trust, the slow, sweet easiness of it all—and the fact that Kurt is loving him back, encouraging him, wanting him so much and so badly. Blaine often doubted he would ever have something so special, especially when he remembers back to the shaky beginning of their relationship—not just being his PA, but when the only way Kurt could let him in, even a little, was to exchange hand-jobs or blow-jobs—and then he’d usually revert to being closed off again. And now there’s this, there’s now, there’s _forever._

Smiling, Blaine eases his fingers out of Kurt’s loose body, loving the feel of Kurt’s pucker gripping around his slick fingers as he slides out, not wanting to be empty.

“I love you,” he breathes, planting a kiss on Kurt’s forehead as he settles over Kurt and breaches his entrance with a gentle, but steady push of the thick head of his cock. “I love you so much, Kurt.”

“Me… _oh god, Blaine!..._ me…too. I love…love you, too,” Kurt gasps, lips alternating between a smile and open-mouthed “ _ohh!_ ” as his eyes start to roll back in his head.

Blaine pushes all the way in, slow and deep, waiting a moment to adjust and make sure Kurt is okay. Kurt’s hands are in Blaine’s hair and then in his own hair and then grabbing at the sheets and Blaine and back again to repeat in some wild attempt to keep from screaming. Blaine grins when Kurt thrusts up and, in a voice almost comically combining pleading and demanding, manages to get his point across that he should _move_. Blaine slowly, tantalizingly, withdraws just until only the head of his cock remains engulfed.

Kurt’s voice abandons any pleading and becomes pure demand as he cries Blaine’s name and grabs at him—anywhere he can reach—to pull him towards him again. There’s a chorus of rasped, breathy moans, and then Blaine’s back in again, thrusting steady and slow, deep and hard. He’s utterly mesmerized by the sight of his cock repeatedly disappearing into his beautiful fiancé—and by the sight of his beautiful, incredible fiancé completely losing it…

There’s fucking—fucking at any time and in any place and on any surface—raw and needy, full of lust and pure desire to just take and to give and to have—again and again. And then there is _this_ , this right now—beautiful, slow lovemaking—taking their time, because they just _can_.

It’s _this_ that drives Blaine on, makes him push ever more deeply into Kurt’s body, curling their fingers together by Kurt’s head, where his hair is spiking out in all directions and leaning down to kiss, lick, and bite Kurt’s knuckles. This whole exchange of love and sex, molding into one exchange of whispers, of breath, and of wordless sounds is more than Blaine had ever expected or even hoped for.

Blaine will be thankful for this, being able to have this with Kurt, every damned day of his life, a life that he now dares to dream will be spent loving Kurt for a very, very long time.

Blaine’s silent and brief reverie is broken by Kurt becoming noticeably more frantic in his movements and—oh, those wonderful noises he’s making—with every thrust of Blaine’s hips. Blaine’s thighs are quaking with pressure, and tiny beads of sweat are pooling at his temples and the nape of his neck. The sun continues to pour in through the bedroom window, adding to the hot and heavy muskiness of the room and the blush spreading across their cheeks and necks and chests.

Already knowing the answer, Blaine whispers, “Are you close?” into the moist juncture of Kurt’s neck, mouthing hungrily at his skin as his hips steadily rock into him. Kurt can only nod vigorously, his hair flopping forward over his eyes. His cock has gone untouched since Blaine abandoned it for _this_ , and they both know by the breathy, urgent gasps escaping from Kurt’s lips, and the clenching grip of his hole around Blaine’s pulsing cock inside him, that he’s about to come, wildly and freely, solely from _this._

“Me, too,” Blaine grunts in reply. “C..come for me first? I…I want you to come for me first—come on, Baby, set me off.” His teeth are clenching with the effort to hold back and let…

“Oh! There… _there, Blaine!...ahh!_ ” Kurt moves his legs up, lifting his calves over Blaine’s shoulders, pulling him in at just _that_ angle. Blaine speeds up his pace and plunges in with perfect precision, his cock hitting that delicious spot inside Kurt so sinfully sweetly.

With his mouth grimacing open in a silent yell, Kurt comes hard, rocking his hips against Blaine’s timely thrusts, spurting warm and wet and thick between their bodies as his cock jerks erratically. He feels it when Blaine’s movements also become wild as he follows him over the edge, chanting Kurt’s name. With a blissed-out grin, Kurt automatically and purposefully clenches his asshole, milking Blaine’s dick for all that it’s worth, thrilling at the feel of Blaine filling him up.

Too soon, breathless, spent and sated, Blaine begrudgingly slips free before he softens so much that it becomes uncomfortable. He firmly keeps them close together, though, their bodies sticky with come and sweat, fingers twined and legs tangled as they try to regain something resembling regular normal breathing and heart rates.

“Kurt,” Blaine breathes, his tone indicating no form of question or reasoning for speaking his fiancé’s name. “My Kurt.”

Kurt hums tunelessly, happy and sleepy, revelling in the warmth of Blaine wrapped around him like a blanket and the heat of the sun from the far windows pouring in.

“Oh god, here comes Mr. Sentimental again,” Kurt croaks, wrapping his arms tighter around Blaine’s back and shoulders, moving his head to mouth against Blaine’s dampened curl-tangled temple.

“Get used to it,” Blaine smiles, nuzzling his nose against Kurt’s face, “because in around twenty-four hours, he’s gonna be taking permanent residence.”

“Blaine,” Kurt murmurs, lifting his hands to curl around Blaine’s face, fluttering his lashes at him suggestively. “Honey, _that_ guy, has always been around. We don’t need a wedding for an excuse for my gorgeous, smart, talented, kind, loving, funny personal assistant to show his sentiment…”

“ _Now_ who’s Mr. Senti…wait…personal assistant?”

The laughter rolls around the bedroom as Blaine is rolled over onto his back and covered with Kurt’s bare body. “Shut up and kiss me.”

“I’ll do one better—I’ll marry you.”

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Thank you all for hanging on in there and for all your wonderful comments, they really do help inspire the writing process. The next chapter is already half done so hopefully won’t be too long for posting. Huge thanks to this story’s new permanent beta AncientGleek who has really supported me in this process, now I really understand the term ‘hand holding’, and who is also mostly responsible for the deliciousness of the last past of the chapter. I hope you enjoyed, see you soon.


	16. Chapter 16

_August, Midday—Yorkshire, England_

“Which side, sir?”

Sam looks blankly at the cater-waiter who had been hovering awkwardly inside the arched entryway to the large, white pavilion that had been erected for the ceremony.

The marquee in which they’re standing is beautiful—not too small, but not too grand either. The front is opened up with two sides carefully draped back to reveal a panoramic vista of grassy hills, met by a blue sky and a midday glowing sun.

The young boy regarding Sam has neatly groomed red hair, freckles dotted over his nose, and is dressed in pressed black pants and a crisp white pleated shirt. His accent is heavily British with a slight linger on the vowels. He gestures towards the short rows of white cloth-covered chairs, wrapped neatly in black chiffon bows, set out on each side of the pavilion.

“Good job, kid, but it’s not that sort of wedding. We’re here for both of them,” Santana comments, giving the boy an unusually patient smile as she strides up behind Sam and ushers him towards the dais. “We have to stand up front, Sam, and wait for the love fools. We’re playing a special part today, remember?”

Santana leads Sam up the small walkway between the few short rows of chairs and stands beside him when they reach the end of the short aisle. She nods politely to an older woman dressed in a black blouse and a beige skirt, holding a small leather-bound book in her hands. Santana quietly ponders the differences between marriage procedures in the States and in England while silently offering a note of gratitude for the ‘locals’ who helped navigate them through all the legal complications.

Santana turns to Sam, reaches out and straightens up his ivory rose boutonniére, which is pinned to the lapel of his jacket. Sam is dressed wonderfully in a sharp black suit, with a cream-colored silk waistcoat and an open collar for a more casual look. Santana’s dress floats airily around her knees; its coloring matches Sam’s suit in a rather complementary way.

“Wait!” Sam practically yells, causing many heads to turn towards him, the distant hum of conversation settling down to almost complete silence, except for the sound of strings filling the air. Santana stares at him, eyes wide and serious, obviously signalling him to tone it down. “Oh my god, the cat! Where the heck is Jes? Oh god, I had one job to do…”

Sam looks as if he’s about to spontaneously combust, jerking his body forward to take off back down the aisle when Santana catches his arm and swings him around to look at the front row seating.

Carole and Reyna are sitting side by side, both dressed in beautiful, somewhat conservative mid-calf gowns, their colors complementing each other. Their hair has been styled, but not elaborately so, and they’re wearing tasteful (and environmentally friendly) feathered headpieces. Between them, looking bored and half asleep on a small black cushion is Jester, curled up into a ball, creasing his adorable tailored vest. There’s a leash of thin, soft leather dotted with jewels attached to his collar, the other end twisted in a loop around Carole’s hand. All three of them are eyeing Sam curiously.

Sam nods at them, gives a sheepish smile, and then whips back around to face the front, feet spread and hands clasped together resting just below his abdomen, attempting to look simultaneously official and nonchalant. Santana rolls her eyes back at him and continues looking out over the small crowd.

Cooper is sitting patiently beside his mother, looking handsome as ever in the suit Kurt had provided for him, refusing any protests or offers of payment. Behind him, Andre and his wife are seated next to some of the men and women from Blaine’s company, and on the other side of them, taking up a handful of seats, are Kurt’s closest, most trusted team members.

John and Sandra, previous owners of Kurt’s long-time retreat, are in the midsection next to some neighbors, close friends and colleagues from Lima, whom Burt and Kurt have known a long, long time. There also are some relatives from Blaine’s family dotted around and dressed in their finest.

It’s a relatively small gathering because the guest list was a not a big one; it was never meant to be. The guests are those who mean the most to the grooms, and that’s all that matters.

There is a four-piece string quartet that Blaine had arranged as one of his wedding duties. They’re set up in the far corner, quietly playing lovely, flowing tunes as the seats slowly fill up. As unobtrusive as the music is, it helps to effectively mask the distant sound of the occasional low-pitched ‘moo’ and higher-pitched ‘baa’ of distant livestock.

The quartet comes to the end of their current piece, and after a beat they start up a tune that is slow and soft and rhythmically lovely. It’s easily recognizable, but it has obviously been transcribed for strings to perform. To those close to Blaine, it’s also obvious that he had a hand in the choice and composition of the piece.

The weather couldn’t be more perfect if it had been special-ordered. It’s not too hot or too humid, and there’s something very welcoming about the gentle waft of fresh country air flowing through the tent flaps that have been raised to create gentle cross-ventilation, with dots of reflective sunlight cascading through the clear plastic-paned windows.  

Santana checks her dress over one last time, picks up a small bouquet of pristine ivory roses from an empty chair beside her, and looks toward the back of the pavilion. She glances into the wedge of sunlight in the open doorway just in time to see two men walk through the arched entryway, momentarily blocking the view of the sun-filled fields in the distance.

It’s clear most of the guests are surprised when they discover, not the grooms as they expected, but their fathers. Burt and Adrian are obviously very happy, if perhaps a little overwhelmed. Dressed smartly in almost matching suits, the two men meander down the aisle side by side, hands in pockets with shy but bright grins on their faces as they make their way forward. The two men reach their invisible markers, then stop and turn around to watch the entryway. The guests rise from their seats and, with anticipation, turn to face the same direction.

The idea for both fathers to do this, walk along side by side ahead of their boys, had actually been Adrian’s. He’d said that he would feel proud walking alongside a new family member, silently announcing their sons’ entrance. It was almost poetic really—two fathers who had both lived challenging, albeit quite different, lives with their sons—now walking forward, freely and happily, symbolically clearing the path of any obstacle on this special day for their boys and their future together.

The night Adrian had suggested the idea, Blaine had spent hours afterwards teary-eyed and mumbling his joy into Kurt’s arms, while Kurt half laughed and half cried with him. It was still astonishing to Blaine how things had changed between him and his parents, especially his father, and this last demonstration of his father’s love for him was simply overwhelming—in the best way possible.

When given the cue, Sam and Santana slowly turn, arm in arm. Santana’s eyes fill with sparkling, unshed tears as the whole room is punctuated with gasps and sighs.

They all grin at the two faces beaming at family and friends, as Kurt and Blaine slowly walk forward arm in arm toward the dais. There’s probably not a dry eye in sight, including those of the two superbly dressed, oh so handsome men slowly but confidently making their way towards the front of the room.

The big reveal is not only of the gorgeous guys striding forward, but also of the suits they’re wearing—so spectacularly simple and understatedly elegant, perfectly fitted, and unique. They’re matching in rich blacks, with an intricate silk outlining on the thick, luxurious fabric. The only obvious difference between the two styles is that Kurt is wearing a cravat while Blaine sports a matching bowtie. However, each specific suit had been made based on the personality and physical structure of the person wearing it, and the attention to small details, while perhaps not immediately noticeable, only serves to enhance each man’s qualities.  Everyone is aware that the suits were carefully designed and tailored by Kurt’s own hands, but only the grooms are aware of the little label in the inseam of the jackets with Kurt’s logo—and the name of each fiancé—carefully embroidered as evidence.

As the music quiets and the sounds of sniffles from all around are hushed with the whisper of tissues unfolding and scrunching, Kurt and Blaine hug their fathers and fathers-in-law to be and then stand side by side as the two men take their seats. They turn and face the smiling face of the registrar, and she gestures for the guests behind them to resume their seats.

In the short space of time it takes for everyone to settle, Blaine looks over to Kurt, catches his eye and mouths, _You ready?_

All it takes is a flash of those bright ocean-hued eyes, followed by a wink, a delicious sarcastic curve of his eyebrow, and a silent _I love you, you idiot_ , and Blaine knows they’re ready to begin the first day of the rest of their lives. Hand in hand, grinning and eyes sparkling with just a hint of moisture reflecting back at each other, the couple turns to face their future.

*

_Yorkshire, England. That Evening_

“You know, I gotta admit that when I was told my ass was being shipped over to England for this thing, I never expected it all to be so…uh…”

“Lovely?”

“Grand?”

“Unexpected?”

Numerous voices around the table offer their suggestions.

“Beauuitfull. Fucking beautiful!” Santana slurs, ignoring the grinning faces staring back at her. Santana picks up the champagne bottle from the ice bucket and carefully pours herself a new full glass. “I mean it just is. It is… what is, ya know? Look at where we are. Look at this place…looook at it!” She gestures wildly around her. “Amazing, weird, English farm place. S’mazing.” She finishes, her eyes closing.

After the ceremony, the reception had moved into a beautiful, old traditional barn just down the lane from the house and the pavilion. The inside obviously has been remodelled with just such special events in mind. Crystal chandeliers and matching wall sconces cast beautiful reflections onto the rustic, varnished wooden panels. Round tables are paired with finished wooden chairs, and both chairs and tables are draped in thick ivory cloths. Clear crystal vases of fresh flowers and thick, sweetly scented candles alternate with each other for centrepieces on the tables, and there is a large, open space for dancing.

Sam smirks from the other side of the table, as Santana leans back in her chair, draping an arm around the back of the chair next to her, where her date is sitting.

“I’d say _somebody_ has enjoyed herself today, huh?” Sam sing-songs, wiggling his eyebrows and grinning like an idiot. “Aw, to think that _the_ Santana Lopez has actually been affected by this…this day of _love!_ ” Sam calls out dramatically, with a hand placed over his heart.

“Yup, day of love. Fucking, beautiful love,” Santana nods, her eyes closing again.

Her date, Brittany, giggles and leans over to kiss her cheek. Santana and Brittany were high school sweethearts, and have been together for years, give or take a couple of break-ups. She works as a dance coach and head choreographer; so she spends a lot of time travelling internationally with her company. She’s always been close to the group, but when she and Santana have simultaneous free time in their schedules, they tend to spend it privately. The wedding, of course, is an exception.

Sam fist bumps the air in the general direction of Santana, who’s seated across from him, and the others, caught between the two, break out laughing before returning to easy, pleasant conversation.

“I would say that you’re both pretty fucking affected by something!” Cooper laughs playfully, taking a long pull from his clear glass tumbler, the ice rolling against the sides.

“Cooper, language!” His mother scolds from beside him, swaying in her chair gently to the soft beat of the soft sounds of jazz coming from the local band the boys had hired for the reception.

“What the fu…Mom, _they_ said it. And I’m like way too old to be scolded.”

“No one is too old to be reminded of the correct language to use in front of a lady, son,” Burt says, hiccupping. He clinks his scotch glass together with Adrian’s, who in turn offers Burt a toast by way of agreement.

“She’s a lady…” Cooper points to Santana and then scoffs a laugh when she snuffles a yawn, “…most days.”

The whole table breaks out into laughter again, and when the music changes to a catchy song Brittany drags Santana from her seat and over to the dance floor. It’s safe to say that, by the time Santana sees Brittany tearing up the dance floor, she’s fully awake again.

Sam had decided to come dateless to the wedding, apparently having taken his duty as Jester’s plus one very seriously, but he’s happy and relaxed nonetheless. It’s the kind of second-hand contentedness one might experience from watching two dear friends vowing to spend the rest of their lives together.

Sam’s not alone, nor is he lonely; he’s been seated with Cooper for most of the day, and the two of them certainly make a rather hilarious, yet strangely fabulous duo. Both families, as well as Sam, Santana and Brittany, have been seated together throughout the entire day and evening.

“I guess I don’t have to ask where those boys of ours even are right now, huh?” Burt laughs, lifting his glass to his lips.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” Adrian smirks, not unkindly or with anything but light humor to his tone. “But if they think they’re not coming back out here to dance with their old guys and gals some more, then they’re sorely mistaken.”

“Yes, they have a honeymoon full of each other to enjoy yet,” Reyna muses cheerfully from beside her husband, twirling her champagne flute around in her fingers.

“I say we give them another ten minutes, to make themselves…presentable, and then we send out a search party,” Carole chuckles, fondly resting her head on Burt’s shoulder.

Cooper shoots up straight in his chair, eyes wide and with a dazzling cheeky grin, his face alight with interest. “I’ll do it! I _am_ , after all, brother and PA to both,” he says while buffing his fingernails on his shirt, earning a napkin pitched at him from across the table.

Before he can think about plotting his sneak attack, however, he finds himself sandwiched between Carole and his mom, escorting him towards the dance floor. “Come on, you—let us old timers show you a thing or two first.” 

*

Incredibly, between the time of the ceremony and the reception, Santana and Cooper had managed to find time to sneak away to the boys’ plush holiday home, ‘decorating’ their bedroom in preparation for newlyweds’ return later that day. Coop and ‘Satan’ had to rein in their inner demons a bit, but that didn’t prevent them from carefully arranging—as in where they couldn’t be missed—a vast variety of lube containers, condoms of all types, sizes, and colors, ludicrous—as well as some intriguing—sex toys, some outrageously titled porn videos, and _Making Marriage Work for_ _Dummies_ and _Dummies’ Guide to Sex._ Balancing their demonic efforts, they also supplied numerous specially scented candles, a supply of Dom Perignon champagne, and a very impressive “Do Not Disturb” sign.

Hours later, after making the required appearance at the reception and visiting with their guests for a while, the front door to the manor flies open, and Kurt and Blaine stumble in, heading directly for the stairs, hanging all over each other, laughing and whispering words like _husband_ and _married_. They’re not entirely surprised by the state of their bedroom and, after selecting a few choice items from among the ‘gifts’ left by Cooper and Santana, they quietly disappear to a more private and less accessible area—their little basement/studio hideout, with its sound-proof walls and a lock on the door.

“You think we should go back in now?” Blaine breathes against the warm dip of Kurt’s neck, sucking his lips against the skin between words.

They’re surrounded by everything they brought with them from upstairs. Candles are glowing and flickering lazily all around them on every non-flammable surface available. Pillows, cushions, fluffy throws and blankets are scrunched up all around their naked tangled bodies, making a soft bed of sorts on the floor. An empty bottle is upended into one ice bucket while a partially full one rests in another. A variety of lube containers and condom packets are scattered about, but the other ‘specialty items’ were left upstairs—to either be discarded, or possibly explored, another time.

“Mmm,” Kurt curls his arms more tightly around Blaine’s torso, rubbing his palms in wide circles up and down his spine, up to his shoulders, down to his waist and then repeats the pattern. “Probably, but come on—of course,they already know we sneaked off to have the most amazing married sex…”

“Twice,” Blaine interrupts with a salacious grin.

“Twice,” Kurt agrees. “But let them dance and drink some more—get their money’s worth.” Blaine laughs lightly because he knows KH Enterprises paid for everyone’s tickets and lodging, as well as a fully stocked open bar; he beams at Kurt as if he hangs the moon and the stars with his own hands.

“Hey,” Blaine whispers. “We’re married now, Kurt. We’re husbands. _Husbands.”_

“Husbands who have just had the most amazing married sex. _Twice_.” Kurt grins. “Wanna try for three?”

Blaine chuckles, his bare chest rumbling against Kurt’s. “God, I wish we could, Love. But…I know Santana practically pushed us out of the reception…I think she actually wanted to get rid of us…but maybe they’ll be missing us now?”

Kurt giggles beneath Blaine in reply, humming as he contemplates his husband’s words. _Husband._ He places his palm under Blaine’s jaw and raises his head to meet Blaine with a kiss. “Maybe. You know, I’m only going to say this once—and I’ll probably deny it if you ever bring it up—but I kind of miss having her around, y’ know?”

“Who? Santana? Kurt, what’re you talking about? She never leaves us alone; she’s supposed to be our _publicist_ , for crying out loud. I mean, can a guy not have thirty seconds alone with his fiancé—now husband thank you very much—to whisper sweet nothings in his ear with out her barking orders at us?”

Kurt giggles, playfully prodding and poking at Blaine’s bare shoulder before leaning down to kiss over the light imprints of his fingers. “You know what I mean. Like having her around the condo, and us trying to sneak around having sex while she’s pretending to dust the cabinets somewhere…” They both start laughing again until Kurt manages to calm down enough to say, “It was just fun, you know, the old days.”

“You mean the uncertain days?” Blaine asks, eyebrow raised, but his tone light and playful. “I guess you’re right in a way; I miss those days a little, too—and her.”

“I wouldn’t ever switch it back, though,” Kurt says quietly, thumbing over the thick triangular shape of Blaine’s eyebrow until it lowers back to its resting position again.

“No?” Blaine takes Kurt’s thumb and brings it to his lips, kissing and nibbling at the pad.

“Nuh-uh.” There is no hesitation.

“Good. Me too.”

As far as Santana’s house-cleaning duties were concerned, Kurt and Blaine have actually done rather well keeping the condo clean and organized without her help. Even with their hectic combined schedules, it’s clear that if they send Cooper to the dry cleaners, grocery shopping, and other errands that don’t require their personal attention, adjustments are being made and things are settling down so to speak.

Losing Santana as their so-called housekeeper has actually been a boon in at least two ways. For one thing, she’s fantastic as their publicist, a role for which she is especially suited. Being their publicist enables her to continue and even expand her ability to assist and support her friends, for that is what she considers Kurt and Blaine, of course.

Happily for her, it also enables her to ‘keep her hand in’ whatever is occurring in their lives. And, although Santana may be impulsive and a little intrusive with little awareness of social boundaries, she has been and always will be their friend. Truthfully, their privacy is just as important to her as it is to them, and that is how it will remain.

Another bonus to the new arrangement is it gives Cooper some of his first PA challenges, one of which is to find a cleaning service that is reliable and discreet. Since Kurt and Blaine are tidy in their habits, the service comes only once a week, and Cooper is always there to supervise, just in case. His role as PA includes quite a bit of business-related work for both Kurt and Blaine, as well; so his scheduling abilities improve as he learns to balance business with household responsibilities.

Biting his lip around a wide grin, Kurt reminds Blaine how Santana gleefully pestered them to take a break from the party going on in the barn/reception hall. He adds, “Well, you know what? Thank you, Santana, because I had better plans anyway!”

Blaine leans in for another kiss, hums against his lips, before whispering, “Better than dancing with your husband?” Blaine’s whole face lights up as he says it, his eyes a mix of warm browns and deep greens, round and clear in his face.

“Would you call what we just spent the past hour doing better than dancing?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You’ve got some moves.”

“Ok, I’m lost. Are we talking about the dance floor or the bedroom?”

They bicker and play and laugh and kiss some more, and then more still, and when Kurt brushes his left hand over Blaine’s cheek, the cool rim of his wedding band slides against Blaine’s skin. And once again, grins and soft smiles seem inevitable as they are lost in thoughts of their rings.

The significance of their rings means more to them both than anyone could ever really know. Blaine had waited for the expected gossip about their engagement to cycle through the rumor mills and, when their ‘adoring’ public had grown tired of speculating and the ruckus had died down some, Blaine presented Kurt with a dazzling engagement ring of his own.

Cooper had accompanied him to search for the perfect style, and Santana had provided him with the best information regarding metal types, jewellers and stone sets.  The ring was rather similar to the one Kurt had picked out for Blaine; the main difference was that the words, “Blaine’s Boss” had been engraved in tiny cursive on the inside of the band.

Blaine had surprised Kurt one night after a heavy day in the office, with glasses of wine and a long soak in the hot tub. When Kurt had nudged Blaine’s wine glass with his own, asking for a refill, Blaine had reached an arm over the edge of the tub towards their little pile of necessities. Kurt certainly had not expected Blaine’s hand to come back in view with a quaint black little box tucked carefully inside. With a squeak and considerable splashing, they’d gotten out the tub and, after drying off, Kurt had giddily accepted the ring, marvelling at its beauty and at the inscription. He’d proudly held out his hand for Blaine to put the ring on his finger—and then kept it extended as he admired how it looked. Both were a bit teary-eyed as they realized how far they’d come together—then they proceeded to create a whole new reason for them to have to clean up and dry off again.

And now they have matching wedding bands that they’re so proudly wearing—and so pleased with how they were made. They’d decided to have both of their engagement rings melted down, the precious metals being combined and then molded to create a whole new design set of rings—something different and unique, but so wholly _them_ , and exquisitely special.

Kurt’s band is engraved on the inside with the word, “until.” After close family and friends were let in on the long running secret joke of Blaine’s ‘contract’, it didn’t take them long to deduce that the word “forever” was similarly engraved on the inside of Blaine’s ring.

Sighing blissfully, still wrapped up with each other in their little nest, Blaine twines his fingers with Kurt’s, pulling Kurt’s hand to his lips and tracing soft, short kisses along the edge of the cool metal. It has so very quickly became one of Blaine’s most favorite things to do; occasionally it’s even on a par with kissing Kurt’s oh-so-kissable lips.

After Blaine has his fill of worshipping the rounded metal wrapped snugly around Kurt’s finger, he lovingly wraps his arms around Kurt’s shoulders and pulls them both into a sitting position atop their nest of blankets and cushions.

Kurt allows his body to be tugged and pulled into whatever comfy position Blaine wants him, and then he waits. He stares into Blaine’s deep eyes, feeling his own eyes widen with each breath he takes and each beat of his heart.

He knows what’s coming. Blaine has been waiting to do this for some time. And now, with their vows fresh off of their tongues and still heavy in their minds and in their hearts, Blaine takes a deep breath. He takes Kurt’s hand, covers it with his, and pulls both their hands to his chest, right over his heart. He keeps his hand pressed over Kurt’s so both of them can feel the strong, rapid thumping of his heart.

“K-Kurt? Baby, I…you…”

“Blaine…” Kurt’s throat is tight, his voice thick, but not as thick as Blaine’s sounds, as if he’s literally choking back tears as he tries to speak.

“Let me tell you, Kurt…let me actually _thank_ you for letting me have this, for allowing me to be right here, right now in my life when I’d thought I’d screwed everything up. Thank you for being mine, and for giving yourself to me.”

“God, Blaine…” Kurt chokes out, still managing to laugh somewhat hoarsely. “What if I want to thank _you,_ huh? What if you’d never come to interview for me that day? What if you’d never taken that leap, and if you were never brave enough to show me what life could be like if I just got my head out my ass…”

Kurt is cut off abruptly as he’s tackled back down into their comfy little pile, with Blaine’s arms around him breaking his fall, and their lips cushioned softly together. Blaine breathes erratically against Kurt’s mouth, huffing out short little gasps of laughter. “God, what is wrong with us? It’s our wedding night, and we’re having a freaking counselling session with each other…naked!”

“You started it,” Kurt laughs, nipping at Blaine’s jaw.

Blaine nods, eyes misting over with pure, unadulterated happiness. “Truce?” He grins, his hands searching over the muscles and tendons of Kurt’s shoulders and back.    

“Truce, you idiot. I love you.”

Blaine mouths his love right back into the sweet spot of skin just below Kurt’s right ear. He could stay like this forever, but eventually he murmurs, “I suppose we should go back and entertain our guests for at least a little while longer. They’ll come looking for us, if we don’t. And, after all, we won’t be seeing them for many, many, long, _private_ , secluded days,” Blaine purrs, tonguing at the stretch of Kurt’s elegant neck, earning a short thrust and a drawn out moan-turned-growl in return.

“Oh god, let them wait…let them wait until after the honeymoon.”

*

The happy couple eventually reappears at the reception, greeting their guests, who are dancing the night away, enjoying the atmosphere—and the alcohol, by the looks of things. Blaine’s waistcoat is missing, and his tie is draped loosely around his neck. The jacket he’s wearing looks a little big, and the sleeves are far too long; it also looks suspiciously like the jacket Kurt had been wearing before they disappeared.

Kurt looks no better (or worse) jacketless, his waistcoat hastily thrown on but unbuttoned, his shirt only partly tucked in, and he seems to be missing his belt.

They playfully pull each other onto the dance floor, both grinning like idiots as Sam eyes them up down, with an _uh-huh_ look on his face.

“I had something I needed to show Kurt back at the house,” Blaine shrugs, calling out over the music, eyes darting to Sam’s, and to anyone who might be listening, not even bothering to try and tamp down his smile to a less insane level.

“Of course you did,” Cooper’s voice loudly and clearly, if a little snarkily, responds from somewhere in the middle of the floor, spinning poor old Sandra around in circles as her husband watches, somewhat bemusedly.

The new husbands dance and laugh and sing and kiss the rest of the night away, surrounded by warmth and love from each other and from those around them. They’ve shared so much with other people today—such an intimate, private and special part of their lives. They’ve danced to a special, slower instrumental version of a song they enjoy playing and singing together. They’ve fed each other cake, and they’ve drunk from glass flutes, eyes shining, lips smiling, arms entwined for the traditional photos. They’ve listened intently and watched wide-eyed while Sam, Santana, and Cooper each stood and shared their favorite memories of the couple over the past years—some of which really did not need repeating, but sweet and funny all the same.

Long after cars have departed to taxi guests back to their hotels, and the guest bedrooms of the big house have been filled and closed up for the night, and the musicians and cater staff have been thanked and dismissed, Kurt and Blaine still continue to sway in each other’s arms. The cool, early morning light of pre-dawn filters in through the cracks in the big old barn door as they map out the panels of the hardwood floor, legs and feet sweeping, arms pulling and holding.

This moment is one of the “locked up tight” moments, one that no one can take from them. It’s something they will always have—this moment in time—dancing sleepily to music only they can hear, smiling at words they are sharing only with their eyes, as the dawn breaks on their first morning as husbands. _Husbands_.

“Blaine…” Kurt murmurs sleepily into Blaine’s curls, still mussed from last night, their bodies drooping lax and heavy and incredibly blissful together as they continue to move slowly around the dance floor.

“Hmm?” Blaine murmurs back, breathing deeply into the open collar of Kurt’s shirt and that blissful juncture between neck and clavicle.

“What the heck kind of a contract do I give you now?”

Blaine smiles tiredly, hearing the smile and the obvious tease in Kurt’s voice. He pulls himself back and looks into Kurt’s eyes, simply drinking in the very sight of him—his new husband, his lover, his best friend, his colleague, his _forever_.

“Just you,” Blaine mouths, smiling brightly, eyes shining. “Just you. No paper. Just you—until forever.”

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested in looking at some accompanying pics for the chapter, you can find them on my blog at fictionallylost ;). Thank you everybody so much as always and also to the wonderful AncientGleek-for being wonderful.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait but thank you for your support and patience. Here's the penultimate chapter! I hope you like!

During their entire three-week stay on the glamorous, exclusive Caribbean island of St. Barts, Kurt and Blaine only once encounter the possible threat of a suspicious zoom lens. The narrow strip of hot white sand that has been generously named a beach is supposed to be private, used only by whoever currently is staying in the villa, which is located just up the hill, overlooking the clear azure water.

That one time also happens to be on the very same day that Blaine gets a little too handsy when applying Kurt’s sun block lotion to his chest and stomach.

As a result, it’s also the only time they retrieve one of their cell phones from the safe in the villa’s bedroom closet and use it to check in with Santana back home.

They’re married now. _Married!_ Of course they don’t care if an _innocent_ photo is leaked to the internet and shared with thousands. If they worried about such things all the time, they wouldn’t have a life. Sharing parts of their lives with others—wanted or not—is something that, with time, they have learned to accept. What they do care about, however, is the perpetrator’s Photoshop skills, and the tag lines or descriptors that may accompany some of their more intimate pictures—manipulated or not.

Santana assures them that the photo has not been uploaded anywhere that she has searched—and she’s been very thorough. Maybe the guy just wanted to get a good view of the topaz glistening ocean, with tropical trees gently swaying in the breeze, just beyond Kurt’s and Blaine’s personal sand- and sun-filled safe haven.

There may be times when the newlyweds might graciously surrender bits of their privacy, but for now, at least, they guard their solitude. Besides, there are some things they always will keep beyond closed doors, to share only with each other with hushed whispers breathed so closely that they might as well be sharing the same warm, sweet breath.

*

The bedroom, like the rest of the villa, is all light and bright, with walls tinted in complimentary washes of color, flooring that is tiled with exquisite marble in some areas and covered with plush sand-colored carpet in others. There are bold decorative touches, unique works of art, and the occasional wooden beams or posts that serve as structural and aesthetic purposes. Everything seems to be artfully planned, including the luxurious, eucalyptus-planked bathroom, with its ‘snail-shell’ shower, opening to the outdoors, if one desires to bathe under the open sky. The villa might be described as an ‘urban modern marries traditional island’ paradise.

Blaine smiles, looking up from where he’s seated at the end of the bed, knees bent and legs open, bare feet planted to the floor, as Kurt appears from the direction of the bathroom. The late afternoon sun is pouring through the open French doors leading from bedroom to balcony, and the rays illuminate Kurt’s whole body, the light making him appear almost other-worldly.

Kurt’s skin is flushed a rosy red from a warm, invigorating shower, with sun-kissed freckles dancing across his back and shoulders and dotting his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. His hair, damp and spiking in all directions from a thorough towel drying, is naturally sun-highlighted, light tips contrasting nicely with his usual deeper chestnut color.

While Kurt’s relationship with the sun may not be as easy-going and carefree as Blaine’s, with his already olive-toned complexion, he still looks so naturally, heavenly gorgeous like this that Blaine wonders how on earth they’ve ever managed to make it out of the bedroom at all during their honeymoon, or the villa for that matter.

Warmer climates may not be one of Kurt’s natural habitats, but seeing Blaine’s face light up when Andre handed him a photograph, telling him that they were more than welcome to use one of his investments for their honeymoon, Kurt knew immediately that he wasn’t going to complain or suggest otherwise. It definitely didn’t hurt that there would be no travel agents needed and no possible slips or leaks to the press.

Kurt knots a towel around his hips and walks farther into the bedroom as Blaine continues to stare at him, actually gawking and dropping the bowtie he’s fiddling with to the mattress.

“Need a hand?” Blaine asks around a dry mouth, watching as Kurt picks up a bottle of aloe vera after-sun lotion from the vanity stand.

“Of course,” Kurt replies, slowly and almost seductively moving towards Blaine, the towel curling around his swaying hips as he uncaps the bottle with a suggestive grin on his face. He sits between his husband’s parted knees, his back to Blaine’s chest, causing him to scoot back a bit on the bed. Kurt gazes out at the incredible view from the open bedroom veranda as he squirts a large amount of the cool, soothing lotion into Blaine’s waiting hands, which are now wrapped around his waist, palms held facing up in front of his stomach.

Kurt moans with pleasure when he first feels the soft press of Blaine’s lips to a lightly sun-tinted shoulder, followed by the feel of Blaine’s skilled fingers gently rubbing the lotion into his skin.

“Feels good,” Kurt murmurs, rolling his neck as Blaine’s hands massage their special magic into his skin. With his head lolling forward and eyes drooping, Kurt adds, “Sun’s got me beat today.”

Blaine works a trail of the green, softly scented lotion down Kurt’s back and over his sides and waist. “You wanna just stay in tonight, Love? I know we made reservations, but…”

“It’s our last proper night here, Blaine; we fly home tomorrow night. Let’s make it special…”

Blaine finishes up, recapping the bottle and wiping the remnants from his hands onto Kurt’s towel, which is still sitting snugly around his hips. “Hmm, I guess if the past three weeks haven’t been all that special…” he remarks, grinning when Kurt twists around and gives him his best _Seriously?_ face. Blaine chuckles, leaning forward to peck Kurt’s nose. “Are you sure you want to go out for dinner tonight, though? I’m sure we could have it delivered…”

Kurt turns on the bed to face his husband and says in a voice somewhat raspy from both the sun and sea as well as from his emotions. “Blaine, tonight I want to take my husband out to dinner, to the seafood restaurant he’s been raving about ever since we got here. We’re going to gorge ourselves and enjoy our last night together before we re-enter our whirlwind reality of a life. And then I’m going to bring him back home to our private ocean-view villa, take him onto that sheltered balcony, right there,” Kurt accentuates this with a nod of his head, “and make sweet, slow love to him on that particularly comfortable chaise lounge for _hours_ —until he forgets his own name.”

Kurt’s face is close to Blaine’s when he finishes, and his eyes drop to Blaine’s lips, searching and wanting, teasing.

Blaine’s eyes darken, and his chest rises and falls rapidly with each intake of deep breath. It’s amazing how Kurt can still do this to him, catch him off guard, send his heart rate soaring and his pulse beating rapidly.

“And what name would that be?” Blaine whispers, playfully dragging a finger tip along the soft edge of the towel lining Kurt’s waist.

“Blaine. Hummel. Anderson,” Kurt replies, also whispering, punctuating each word as if he just can’t say it enough.

Blaine murmurs his satisfaction at Kurt’s words. He nudges forward, his lips apparently on autopilot as he nuzzles into Kurt’s neck, the tang of the lotion tingling against his lips, while his fingers gently but persistently tug at the towel until it falls from Kurt’s hips.

They may be just a _little_ late for their reservation…

*

The chosen restaurant for the night is beautiful and just down the beach from their villa, making it perfect for a tipsy, grope-y stumbling walk back later. The main part of the restaurant is on land, but verandas, open to the night sky for alfresco dining, are built on stilt-like wooden frames within the shallow waters of the ocean. The restaurant is generous in size; tables are spaced well apart, and pillars, decorative walls and high-rise booths ensure privacy for more intimate dinners and conversation. The lighting is subdued, mostly provided by candles—some hanging from wooden pillars and others placed all around in little colored glass jars—creating a lovely, peaceful ambience. The quiet flow of Calypso music softly filters through the restaurant, mixing with the gentle sound of the waves on the beach, adding to the peaceful atmosphere of the evening.

“I was sure you were going to go for the wood-fired lobster tail—I saw the way your eyes lit up when Ajay recommended it,” Kurt comments, looking at Blaine and smirking as he reaches across the table with his fork, picking a jumbo prawn from Blaine’s plate.

Blaine smiles and shakes his head at Kurt’s not-so-subtle thievery. “Yeah, well, I also saw the way you couldn’t make up your mind when looking at the menu; so I thought I’d help you out and get something I knew you wanted, too.”

Kurt blissfully grins, and a small moan escapes his lips as he tastes the zesty mango sauce coating the prawn. He chews slowly, savoring the delicate blend of flavors, swallows, and takes a sip from his cocktail. “You just don’t stop, do you, Mr. Hummel-Anderson?”

“Nope,” Blaine says with a wink. “For you? Not ever. Dig in, Love.” Both men are well aware that Blaine, in particular, has been using this new term of endearment more and more often since the wedding, perhaps even since the engagement. However, neither man feels the need to mention it, preferring to let it be another simple, natural progression in their relationship. Blaine loves the way Kurt’s eyes light up whenever the term slips out, how his face and features glow from the lovely surprise of hearing it.

An hour or so later, they’ve moved from the restaurant’s interior to one of the private verandas. Sitting tucked up into each other’s sides, they sip casually at their drinks, occasionally picking a particularly tempting piece of fruit from the complimentary dessert plate Ajay, their server, has provided.

As they watch the twinkling lights from the roof of the restaurant glisten out on to the now dark water’s surface, Kurt murmurs, “We should have packed before we came out tonight—I’m definitely not going to be in the mood to do it after such a wonderful evening.”

Blaine chuckles softly under his breath, squeezing Kurt’s hand in his. “We’ve got time tomorrow; our car isn’t coming until late afternoon.”

Kurt grins, finishes off his drink and turns to face Blaine, his lips brushing against his earlobe, breathing softly upon his neck. “Oh, but I had other plans for our final hours in paradise,” he whispers.

Blaine swallows, feeling the heat flush to his cheeks as the soft cool fabric of Kurt’s loose linen shirt rubs against his bare skin, revealed by his boat neck collar. Kurt has looked—and _has_ _been_ —entirely edible the whole time they’ve been on this trip together. They’ve both worn the lightest and loosest of garments when out in public and next to nothing at all in the confines of their sun-filled temporary home, and Blaine thinks the look is one that is especially suited to Kurt, giving him an almost ethereal quality.

Tonight is no exception, and if Blaine tilts his chin just so and lowers his gaze, he can just make out the outline of Kurt’s slowly growing erection, snug underneath his light gray three-quarter length chinos.

“O-Oh yeah?” Blaine squeaks out.

“Yeah,” Kurt breathes, “and the sooner we get back to the villa...”

As much as Blaine hates it when wait staff are snapped at for their attention, he begins rapidly clicking away with his fingers, sitting up and peering back towards the dining room until he catches Ajay’s eye, and the boy comes hurrying over to them.

After settling the bill and thanking Ajay for his time and superb, friendly service with comments as well as a rather generous tip, they swiftly make their way to the exit, which is just steps away.

They’re blushing and giggling almost like school kids, grabbing for each other’s hands and have almost made it to the steps leading to the beach, when they hear a gasp, a scrape of a chair, and an “Oh my goodness!”

The voice is not recognizable, but the tone is familiar—surprised, young, and very excited. It’s not often this happens, especially somewhere like this, and tonight Kurt may have been tempted to ignore the small voice behind them as politely as possible, continuing down the steps and dragging Blaine behind him.

However, Blaine likes to encourage Kurt to embrace his fan base and learn to deal with such public displays of appreciation; so, with his big, round, honeyed heart-eyes, he successfully turns Kurt to greet the person who’s so excited to see him.

“Blaine? Blaine Anderson?” the young girl squeaks as they both turn to face her. She steps forward shyly, her eyes wide and unblinking.

_Oh._

“Uh…yeah…hi,” Blaine stutters, stepping forward to greet the girl with an outstretched hand and equally wide eyes. Kurt stays where he is, eyes shining, lips parted and smiling knowingly.

“Oh my god! Hi! I’m so sorry; I like never do this but…um…I’m such a big fan of yours!” the young girl with sun-bleached blonde hair and freckled, flushed skin gushes breathlessly.

An older man rises from his seat at their table, leaving what appears to be a family gathering. He approaches them and puts a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Honey, come on; leave the poor man alone. He’s on vacation, like us.” The man chuckles, obviously a little embarrassed, and gives Blaine an apologetic look.

“But Dad…”

“No, no, it’s ok. She’s fine; it’s totally cool,” Blaine laughs, smiling brightly at them both. The girl’s father gives him an appreciative nod, nods a polite, silent greeting to Kurt, and then steps back.

“It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name, honey?” Blaine asks, bending a little so he’s more at her height. She’s a petite girl and doesn’t look any older than about fourteen.

Kurt looks on, smiling almost uncontrollably as his husband interacts so sweetly with his young fan. Blaine asks her questions, listens intently to her answers, giving her all of his attention. He signs a napkin for her, using her mom’s eyeliner pencil, and wraps her up in an adorable hug as her father fumbles with her cell phone to take a picture of them both.

“Do me a favor, please honey, and don’t share that photo anywhere until after you go back home, ok?” Blaine says with a wink, and the poor girls blushes from her toes to her cheeks, nodding obediently.

As the girl rambles on and her father steps forward again to try to usher her away, Kurt steps up to them, discreetly winding his fingers with Blaine’s by his side. He wiggles the fingers of his free hand in greeting to the girl and mouths a friendly, “Hi.”

“Oh,” Blaine turns, grinning brightly as he squeezes Kurt’s fingers. “You know my husband, Kurt, right?”

“Oh, oh my gosh, yes! I read somewhere that you guys were getting married. Congratulations!” She blushes and, peering up at Kurt, shyly asks, “Y-you’re… um…a model or something, right?”

Kurt giggles, and the sound is so sweet to Blaine ears. Everything about this moment is somewhat surreal and utterly refreshing. “I’m a designer, sweetie,” he answers. “But you’re right; I’ve modelled once or twice, too.”

“Oh my gosh, yes, of course! My uncle actually has a few of your bowties. Uh-um…Hummel Designs, right?” she ventures, cheeks blushing.

“Hummel-Anderson, now,” Blaine corrects with a grin before Kurt gets the chance to open his mouth. “And your uncle has good taste,” he continues, smiling with a wink. “It was so nice to meet you, honey. Thank you for saying hello to us, and thank you for your support; it means an awful lot.”

They make their polite farewells and, as the girl is gently but firmly ushered back to her seat, albeit with several glances back over her shoulder, Kurt and Blaine are able to slip out of the restaurant. 

They’re hand in hand, making their way up the lamp-lit lane in a calm, comfortable silence when Kurt quietly asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Hmm?” Blaine replies, obviously in somewhat of a hazy reverie. “What do you mean? I’m great.”

“About the girl—your fan? Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Blaine beams and nods his head. “She was so excited, telling me all about her rehearsals for her school’s show and how she follows our careers and advice blog and stuff.” He sighs a little and continues, “It does feel pretty good knowing that something you’re doing is helping to encourage and influence others.”

Kurt grins at him, leans in to peck his cheek, and they continue walking lazily towards the villa.

Seeing the grin, Blaine teases, “Oh, so now you admit that you _like_ it, and it feels quote _good_ end-quote when your fans show their appreciation for you,” he makes rabbit ear quote marks in the air with his free hand, “and it doesn’t ruin your day?”

“Oh hush, smart ass,” Kurt smirks. “You know it was never completely like _that_ with me.”

“I know, Love,” Blaine replies softly. It’s true; they do know each other exceptionally well now—both physically and emotionally—but there is always room for teasing. They know how far they can go.

“It’s just...this way of life…it doesn’t turn off, you know?” Kurt continues, gently swinging their joined hands by their sides as they continue walking in the peaceful night. “You know what it’s like now. We, and by _we_ , I mean _I_ , can get so caught up in myself and in my own moods. We work so hard to get what we want, but there always have to be con’s with the pro’s, you know? Always has to be something or someone to take the light away from your shine. Part of the make-up…part of the job, I suppose.”

“Hey, if anyone knows how to deal with all that crap, then it’s definitely _you,_ Mr. Kurt Hummel-Anderson. My knight in shining—perfectly designed, stitched and fitted—armor,” Blaine drawls. 

“Mm-hmm,” Kurt smiles, biting his lip and rolling his eyes. “I’m so proud of you, Blaine,” he says after a beat of silence with just the crunch of sand and pebbles under their sandaled feet. “Look at how happy you made that kid tonight. Look at how happy you’ve made _me._ Look at how happy you’ve made _yourself._ That’s the most important part.”

“You know what?” Blaine says a little hoarsely, slowing their walk to a crawl and then to a stop in the middle of the ascending walkway to the villa. The moon is high in the star-clustered sky, shining down, pale and milky and brightly over the ocean below and behind them, making such a breath-taking backdrop. “I’m proud of me, too.”

With the sounds of the waves gently flowing back and forth against each other and against the sandy shores, and with eyes shimmering a bit with the realization of how far each of them has come—each with the help of the other—they take each other in their arms and kiss, slow and soft and sweet. Sweet sentiment enhances the moment, and the kisses naturally progress, becoming more and more urgent, only stopping for quick pulls of air. Finally, still holding and kissing each other, they stumble onwards up the hill at a more hurried pace than before.

*

“Oh my god, I knew we should have packed before dinner last night,” Kurt calls from the foyer at the bottom of the staircase. His voice is deep and croaky from lack of sleep and too many cocktails the night before, as well as being little out of breath from hurrying around.

Blaine grins to himself, finishes zipping up the last of their shared luggage and hauls the case off of the bed, rolling it behind him to the landing, where he knows he’ll be met with his husband’s somewhat unhappy face staring up at him from the ground floor.

“Relax, we’re all done up here, and the rest of our travel clothes are all laid out on the bed, waiting.” He grins, remembering what—or who—else had been laid out on this bed, waiting, so often over these past weeks, uttering a silent _thank you_ for all the incredible memories he now has involving that bed, along with other areas and facilities of the villa, indoors and out, of course. He settles the case with the others along the wall, waiting for the villa’s attendants to arrive later to transport their belongings.

“Everything all sorted down there?” he asks, squatting at the top of the stairs with bent knees, rocking slightly as he shifts his weight between heels and toes. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of linen Jamaica shorts, loose and airy, with a definite ‘I don’t care I’m on vacation’ look. And now, as he’s squatting down, flexing his thighs to keep his balance, the thin material rides up and clings to his hips and legs, revealing more than it conceals. He continues grinning, totally aware of the effect his ‘pose’ will have, as he looks down at Kurt.

Kurt looks flustered with flyaway hair, rose-blushed cheeks, a rag cloth in one hand and their travel documents packet in the other.

“Mm-hm,” Kurt barely groans out, teeth worrying his bottom lip. Blaine can see the moment his husband’s face changes from annoyed frustration to interested, wanting, slow-burning arousal.

Blaine is absolutely gorgeous, as far as his husband is concerned; there’s no other way to describe him. Kurt has always thought so, from the first moment when they sat opposite each other back in that makeshift office years ago. But after three weeks’ exposure to the tropical sun, it’s a little like torture to Kurt’s eyes whenever he looks at his husband. Of course, one of the best things about being married is he hasn’t had to keep his eyes or hands away from him during their honeymoon, although he did show at least some restraint in public, of course. 

With deeply tanned, bronzed skin covering his lean yet muscular frame, and dark hair growing in tantalizing, scattered curls across his chest, stomach and thighs, thickening around his groin, Blaine’s entire body is perfect for exploring fingers and searching lips. He’s Kurt’s very own playground.

Blaine knows damn well what he’s doing when he slowly rises and moves towards his husband, taking one deliberate step at a time. One of the joys of this villa is the guaranteed privacy, and he feels quite confident as he digs his thumbs under the waistline of his shorts, pushes downwards, revealing a distinct lack of underwear, and steps out of them. Casually he hangs the shorts on the railing behind him; his cock bobs up, already well on its way to full hardness, thick and curling with interest.

Kurt is already working his way up the staircase, having dropped both the documents packet and the cloth, slipping out of his unbuttoned shirt, kicking out of his own shorts as he watches Blaine do the same,eventually meeting him in the middle of the staircase. Gently pushing Blaine down onto one of the wide, smooth steps, Kurt settles himself one step down and positions himself between Blaine’s legs, which are stretched down to the next couple of steps.

It’s a little precarious, of course, despite the wider steps, but the sight and anticipation of what’s to come is far too tempting to stop now. The rounded window above them allows a perfect of wedge of golden sunlight to stream down on them, illuminating their bodies, already glistening with a fine layer of sweat.

“Like what you see?” Blaine purrs, as he curls his arms around Kurt’s back and his legs around his hips. Kurt’s answer is to attach his lips to Blaine’s jaw, nipping at the short dark hairs of his scruff.

He’s been growing it for the past few days, the thick fuzz around his jaw and chin growing up around his upper lip and over his cheek-bones to meet his sideburns. Blaine knows Kurt won’t readily admit that he likes the tingly burn that his facial hair leaves on his lips, throat, and other…sensitive areas.

“Obviously,” Kurt pants back, grinding his hips up against Blaine’s. They both cry out breathlessly when the pink swollen head of Kurt’s cock nudges up the underside of Blaine’s, and Kurt leans in, resting all of his weight against Blaine and pressing their cocks hot and tight and close together. 

“Ahh, fuck,” Blaine breathes. The step under his ass is cool and hard, and he’ll probably eventually lose the feeling in both ass cheeks, but for now he can’t stop himself from clenching his legs even more tightly around Kurt, pulling him in even more closely. Digging his fingers under Kurt’s thighs, he pulls him up and down in time with his thrusts. “This won’t…ah _yes…_ last long…”

“Nuh-uh,” Kurt breathes in agreement, uncurling his hands from the nape of Blaine’s neck, abandoning the sweaty nest of unruly curls, and clawing his fingers onto an upper ledge for purchase.

They’re not embarrassed by their lack of endurance in this moment; they don’t have to be. The past days and nights have literally been spent fucking each other on every clean, available surface, in the hot tub in the master bathroom, and by and in the outdoor pool, from twilight until the sun rises over the ocean vista.

It’s not like they have time for anything more anyway; the car will be here soon to pack them off and jet them back to reality. Right now they just need this, and each other, fast and hard and heavy, one last time of uncensored, unrestrained honeymoon bliss.

“C-close, I’m close, Babe!” Blaine pants after a few moments of thrusting and grinding, wet kisses, and soft panting against hot, damp skin. “Come on, come with me, Baby. Make me come. I need to come. _Please._ ” His breathing is ragged now, voice hoarse and delicious to Kurt’s ears.

“I-I know, I know, Honey. Sshh, I’ve got you.” Kurt smiles even though his own orgasm is hurtling upwards, pooling at the pit of his stomach, teasing him, keeping him on edge.

He slides down another step, shushing Blaine with kisses when he moans in complaint. Resting his knees on the lower stair, his hands on Blaine’s knees, he curls himself inwards, ducking his head and taking Blaine into his mouth.

“Ah, shit… _ah-mmm, Kurt—Baby…_ Yes!” Blaine babbles, as Kurt swallows him down in one long suck, his tongue heavy against Blaine’s shaft and his mouth like a vacuum around Blaine’s throbbing, leaking head.

Blaine cards his fingers through Kurt’s hair, scratching a little frantically at his scalp, supporting Kurt’s head as he bobs up and down, moaning as his mouth surrounds Blaine’s cock. It only takes a few particularly effective bobs of Kurt’s head, followed by an exaggerated swallow as he takes Blaine deep down into his throat, before Blaine is crying out, echoing off the walls around them, pulsing in Kurt’s mouth as he spills down his throat.

Kurt swallows every drop, which had been his plan, after all, to save Blaine from having to clean up, as well as to save the cleaning service extra work. Kurt sucks and licks Blaine through his orgasm, only pulling off when Blaine whimpers at the extra sensitivity, cupping Kurt’s jaw to guide him off and away.

“ _Fffuuucckk…god Kurt!”_ Blaine breathes out. His pupils are blown, eyes dark and glassy, with sweat rolling in little beads from his temples and down his neck to his chest. He shakes himself out of the aftermath haze and loosens his hold on Kurt to reach out and palm his husband’s still rock-hard cock. But before he can tighten his fist and begin his caresses, Kurt is carefully rising to his feet, taking Blaine’s hand and guiding him down the rest of steps, grabbing his own discarded clothing on the way.

“I want your mouth on me, Blaine,” Kurt says huskily, as they reach a distressed leather loveseat, tucked away in a nook of the foyer. Kurt quickly spreads his shorts and shirt beneath him and lowers himself sideways onto the sofa, with both his forearms resting on the armrest, his knees on the cushion, and his ass in the air, accessible and beckoning to Blaine.

Sunlight pours in all around from the far windows as Blaine, needing no further encouragement, lowers himself to the cushion behind Kurt, between his legs. He grips his husband’s long, strong thighs and spreads them even further apart and, without preamble, leans down and in and licks hungrily between Kurt’s cheeks.

Kurt writhes as much as he can under Blaine’s firm hold, as Blaine tongues him open, switching between long soft licks and desperate sucks, and then spears his tongue in and out of Kurt with rapid precision.     

Kurt has been close, _very close,_ ever since he began blowing Blaine on the staircase. His cock throbs and leaks clear pearls of pre-come in response to the feel and the sounds of Blaine going at him from behind. Kurt doesn’t need anything on or around his cock for now, but he can feel the ache for friction, _something,_ beginning to ascend. Blaine inches back slightly, blowing soft, cool puffs of air around Kurt’s loosened, spit-slick rim.

After that, all it takes is Blaine’s whispered, breathy words of, “I love you. I love this beautiful ass, all open for me. All mine,” and Kurt is coming, his hole puckering around Blaine’s tongue, with a keening cry, as his cock surges and twitches, spilling a thick, white, warm pool onto the clothing he so thoughtfully had arranged beneath him. At one point in his life Kurt may have not sacrificed his clothes for such a purpose, but it’s amazing how priorities change given the right circumstances.

Gasping, Kurt rolls onto his back, deftly balling up and tossing his well-used garments on the floor. He huffs out a shaky breath as Blaine collapses on top of him, pressing his lips to Kurt’s stomach, licking up the little drops of come that didn’t make it to the discarded clothing with little sucking kisses. Blaine moans for effect and grins when Kurt’s softening dick twitches a little against his chin, and Kurt follows with a playful swat to his shoulder.

They breathe together in perfect sync, the sounds of gulls and the light breeze from the ocean floating through partly opened patio doors, until Kurt weakly lifts a hand to swipe at some sweat-ruffled hair falling over his eyes.

Blaine grins up at him, chin dug into Kurt’s stomach, eyes hooded. His lips are red and swollen from their recent activity. “Are you relaxed now?” he asks, his voice croaking a little as he traces circles into Kurt’s hipbone with his finger.

“Mmm…too relaxed,” Kurt mutters, an evident smile in his voice. Blaine lifts himself up on to his knees, straddled over Kurt’s slumped, sated body, places his hands on his husband’s shoulders, and looks him in the eye with a very serious expression on his face.

“Good, because I need your help. I can’t find the black silicone vibrator anywhere, and I’m not leaving without it! It’s my favorite!”  Kurt arches an eyebrow, and Blaine adds, “Unless you’d like to leave it as a ‘gift’ for the villa’s attendants, of course…”

*****

It’s been only a few weeks since their return to New York, and they’ve managed to settle back in to their daily routines and lives quite comfortably, revelling in their ‘husband-ness’. It’s all been rather surprisingly stress-free, despite the challenges of dealing with a few issues caused by their prolonged absence and being ‘off the grid’ for several weeks. Fortunately, they’ve always had highly qualified staff, and there are only a few situations that had to wait for their return.

By mid-September, Kurt has started work on a new line, hoping to hit an early New Year release date. One of the effects of having Blaine by his side is that Kurt has been more easy-going about working on new material specifically aimed for the general public. And, as they’ve become more official and public in their relationship, he’s also grown more tolerant of public criticism or praise.

On the music production side of the business, Blaine’s work continues to expand with increasing popularity. Things have been pretty much non-stop, but it’s a pleasant busy-ness, and Blaine usually feels invigorated rather than beat by the end of the day.

Cooper has stepped up his game and is now a full-time PA and, of course, Santana and Sam continue to help in more ways than their job descriptions require. Despite all the support, however, the newlyweds begrudgingly have realized that spending unlimited quality time together will happen only if they hide themselves away somewhere and switch off every electronic device. When possible they take full weekends off work, sometimes adding the odd Friday or Monday into the mix, and make their very own, special extended weekend.   

Amazingly, there has been little media attention since their return, but they know it’s only a matter of time before their peaceful interlude is over. While they understand the ramifications of being an up and coming celebrity couple, they’re still not overly keen to hear what the media might have to say about their lives in general and their dream-worthy wedding and honeymoon, in particular.

It’s during one lazy Sunday morning, when Kurt is dancing around the stove and Blaine is flicking through music video channels on the living room’s big screen to find just the right musical accompaniment for poaching eggs, that they hear their names.

The reporter for the three-minute news channel that pops up between every few videos sounds bright and jovial as she launches into her tele-prompted speech about the pair, as if she knows them first-hand.

“How bad can it be?” Blaine says, shrugging when Kurt sends him an accusing glare that clearly says, “ _Do we really need to hear this? Turn it off!”_

Instead, Blaine uses the remote to bump the volume up a couple of notches and comes to stand behind Kurt at the stove, wrapping his arms reassuringly around his waist and resting his chin on his robe-covered shoulder.

“Word is out that fashion guru Kurt Hummel and his music marvel beau Blaine Anderson have tied the knot. The exact when and where of it is still one of New York’s best-kept secrets; however, it has been rumored that close friends and family of the pair were flown overseas for a quiet ceremony somewhere in Europe. Our source is tight-lipped, but rumor has it that the vows shared between the two were worth a tissue or two.”

Blaine glances up just in time to see a slightly blurred picture of himself and the sweet girl he’d met at the restaurant on the screen.

“Social media sites have been going crazy ever since this picture was posted online by a fan a few days ago.”

Blaine squints at the screen and notices that if he looks carefully enough he can just make out the reflection of Kurt’s smiling face in the restaurant’s window beside where Blaine had the girl wrapped in his arms. The screen flashes back to the grinning reporter and the picture disappears.

“After this adorable photograph of Blaine and a lucky fan had been released, our sources suggest that the two honeymooned somewhere in the Caribbean, although we regrettably have no additional pictures or information to share with you. From Music-Now TV, we would personally like to congratulate the lucky, happy couple, and we hope to one day get a glimpse at what we know must have been a sensational ceremony.”

The reporter then moves onto a new piece and Kurt reaches into the back pocket of Blaine’s pajama pants, retrieves the remote and turns the TV off. He switches to their internal sound system, and one of Blaine’s demos softly flows from the wall speakers, filling the room.

“Well,” Kurt breathes, somewhat surprised by the positive and kind media attention. He places the remote on the counter, turns the heat down on the stove, and turns in Blaine’s arms to meet his husband’s lips with his own.

“Well, indeed,” Blaine mutters as his lips move slowly down Kurt’s jaw and back up again. “Told ya.”

Kurt bumps their noses together. “Yes, you did.”

“I’m always right,” Blaine teases, sliding his arms under the soft cotton of Kurt’s robe, and around his body again ~~.~~

“I hate to admit this…” Kurt murmurs, slowly.

“Buuuutt?” Blaine answers, gently mocking Kurt’s tone. They sway on the spot, wrapped up in each other, grinning and kissing lazily.

“But…yes you’re right. You always seem to be right, no matter how much I wish you weren’t. Even in spite of myself, in spite of my own stubbornness, my own wishes and preconceived ideas…”

“Kurt?” Blaine lifts a hand to tenderly caress Kurt’s jaw, his voice low and gentle, trying to interrupt his husband’s self-deprecating ramble.

“You _are_ always right Blaine…” Kurt continues, his eyes fluttering closed, and when they reopen Blaine can see the emotion in them, those deep-sea blue-green eyes shining with so much to tell, to share. “…when it comes to me. Right from the very beginning, you knew what you wanted from me and knew what I was able to give, before I even knew it myself. You never gave up on me—on us. And look, here we are, proving everyone else, including me, wrong. Proving _you_ right.”

Kurt grins when Blaine worries his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes misting over. “Because you know what?” he continues as he leans in, kissing Blaine’s eyes as they close, his long dark lashes sweeping back the dampness.

Blaine doesn’t need to answer him; he knows Kurt will tell him anyway, and he knows that tone of voice; he knows something shivery-nice is forthcoming—something that, not so long ago, Kurt would have been unable to even admit, much less voice.

Blaine blinks his eyes open, grinning lopsidedly up at Kurt, who still has him wrapped tight in a fierce embrace. “ _Until Further Notice…”_ Kurt starts, slowly, quietly, “was never good enough for us. It never would have worked; we were always going to be more. You knew that, and so did I, but _you_ were brave enough to acknowledge it. And now, as we stand here, I don’t even think _Until Forever_ is going to be good enough—long enough—for us. We’re so much more than ‘forever,’ don’t you think?”

“Really, Kurt?” Blaine croaks out through a heady laugh, his throat tight. “Our vows? You’re already repeating our wedding vows to me? You do know, don’t you, that you don’t need to woo me—or seduce me. You already have me.” He laughs as Kurt grins even more brightly at him, rocking them into the middle of the kitchen where they begin to dance slowly to Blaine’s musical genius still flowing through the speakers.

“Oh, Honey,” Kurt sighs, eyes lifting to the ceiling as he smiles. “You _know_ that even if I have _until forever,_ I’ll never tire of finding ways to woo and seduce you.

Blaine stops dancing and, as they stand quietly in each other’s arms, lifts Kurt’s left hand to his lips, pressing the softest of kisses to his wedding band. “Apparently… _even longer than until forever—beyond forever_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to everyone for your kind reviews, and a special big thanks to AncientGleek for her extra special attention to this chapter in particular, thank you for helping look after my baby ;)
> 
> Next/last up...Epilogue!


	18. Epilogue

“Blai…syor…turn…”

 

“Mmph…”

 

Kurt rolls over on to his side, lifts his face up from his pillow and wiggles so that his husband’s dead weight of an arm falls from where it’s draped across his back, and Blaine’s forced to shift over on the king size mattress. No matter the width of the bed and the space they have, they always wake to find themselves contorted into a real human puzzle piece. 

 

The thick, rich brown fabric of the ceiling-to-floor drapes covering the far bay windows blocks out any light from the too-early morning sunrise cracking over the golden fields outside their sanctuary. Still, Kurt glares at Blaine’s peaceful sleeping face in the darkness of their bedroom, with its traditional oak furniture, plush biscuit-colored carpet and pale gray walls.  

 

Kurt doesn’t need any light to know that his husband’s gorgeous amber eyes are clenched shut and crinkled at the corners. There’s usually a small, sleepy smirk that sits at the edge of his lips while he sleeps, highlighting the couple days’ worth of overgrown stubble around his upper lip and chin.

 

Kurt’s glare slowly turns into blatant and happy gazing at his husband’s sleeping form, until another quiet whimper comes from the other side of the bedroom door. Kurt pokes Blaine in the chest until he’s forced to blink his sleepy eyes open.

 

“Blaine. He’s crying. It’s your turn.” Blaine takes Kurt’s fingers in his hand and tries to roll over, taking Kurt with him, and as tired and warm and comfortable as he is, Kurt can’t help but flop back over, spooning against his husband’s back as he buries his nose into his sleep soft curls.

 

Blaine thought he’d known comfort before, but after experiencing their special order, locally-crafted mattress with their oak-carved four-posted, voile-draped heaven of a bed, he doubted he’d ever be able to sleep as well anywhere else. Especially with Kurt by his side, he couldn’t see a reason why he’d have to leave the bed ever again. There’s no reason for restless, sleepless nights, nothing on his mind to weigh him down, nothing heavy on his heart. He can just happily sleep knowing he will always wake up with his life still tucked safely beside him. 

 

“He’ll stop; he’s ok. He just needs to get used to it. He’ll never learn if we just jump out of bed every time we hear him…” Another whimper followed by a scratch at the door cuts Blaine off midsentence, and before he can say or do anything, Kurt is already whipping off the blankets and shooting out of bed over to the door.

 

It’s Saturday morning; they’re not in any rush to be anywhere, and there’s no need to cut their sleep short. They’re not even desperate for extra hours of snoozing. It’s safe to say that after many, many years of gruelling schedules and countless flights and journeys, they’re finally at a point in their lives when they can just relax, simply for the sake of relaxing, and not only because they finally have the opportunity to relax, but just because it simply fits in with their daily life styles now. It just _is_.

 

“Kuurrrttt…” Blaine groans around a large yawn, though the secret smile in his voice is evident. He flops over onto his back just in time as Kurt opens the bedroom door. There’s a yip and a squeak, followed by toenails clattering against the hardwood floor. A soft heavyweight and a whirlwind of light and dark patched shaggy fur hits the mattress with a soft thump, landing atop Blaine’s shins.

 

Kurt follows, climbing back into bed and curling himself back into Blaine’s body, reaching down to pat at the pup’s wriggling furry backside and happily wagging tail. “I know, baby boy, I know; you just want to sleep with your daddies, don’t you? It’s better up I here, I know.”

 

Blaine smiles knowingly to himself; he’ll never tire of hearing Kurt referring to them both as ‘daddies,’ even as far-fetched as it is. The term ‘daddies’ for them may not refer to a nursery filled with little screaming lungs, kicking legs, and exploding diapers, but it means plenty to them all the same. It means more than enough.

 

“He’s four months old now, Kurt; he can’t keep whining and scratching on our door every night…” Blaine croaks, shifting his legs as the puppy buries himself into a little nest of sheets and covers between them “We at least could have chosen a smaller, more manageable, less hairy breed…”

 

“Blaine. Old English sheep dogs are very popular around here. Every farm has one…”

 

“ _We’re_ not a farm.”

 

“Thatcher is a properly bred, first gen pedigree…”

 

“Wait…hold up! How did he even get out of the kitchen; did you unlatch the door to the stairs on purpose?”

 

“Sshh… s’cuddle time,” Kurt mumbles into Blaine’s shoulder as he snuggles deeper into his husband’s warmth, one arm still dangling down to cradle the puppy. This kind of friendly banter and playful back-and-forth between them has only grown stronger as the years have passed. It’s part of what makes them _them;_ it’s what keeps them sane and young at heart, remembering the early days when everything was new and exciting and wonderfully frustrating.

 

“Night night, little Thatch,” Kurt whispers as Blaine decidedly keeps his mouth closed and huffs out a little yawn instead. A little whine and an over enthusiastic yawn and leg stretch is the only response as the pup’s eyes close, joining his ‘daddies’ in quiet repose.

 

The actual decision to not have children of their own had been mutual, of course, and not really much of a decision at all—more of a ‘just knowing’. Kurt being _Kurt_ had never really struck Blaine as the daddy type originally. Kurt seemed to prove him wrong on many occasions by ‘awwing’ at babies and toddlers and little bundles of fur on TV, or sketching out tiny little suits and dresses just for fun. However, while it seemed as if Kurt had some ‘daddy’ tendencies, he also made it clear that he could find ways of expressing them other than giving up his social life and flawless complexion to sleepless nights and baby massage classes.

 

Having children just wasn’t something that was a priority for them. Kurt knew he was too selfish and wanting of Blaine’s time and love and affection, and Blaine couldn’t imagine not being able to pull his husband down onto their sofa, stripping him naked and worshipping his body just because there was a toddler watching them from a playpen in the corner of the room.    

 

Now happy and relaxed, Kurt just starts falling back into that realm of sleep with his husband warm and heavy beside him and his pup warm and heavy on top of him, when Blaine starts mumbling something a little incoherently. Kurt huffs, readying himself to roll his husband over to the other side of the bed (careful of the sleeping ball of fur) when he realizes Blaine is counting down.

 

“Three…two…one…ooof! Jester, you really should lead by example…” Blaine grumbles as the long, gangly cat, now sprinkled with little tufts of faded gray fur by his ears and mouth and chest, sprints into the room, leaps onto the bed and crawls up his chest, kneading at Blaine’s shirt, then situating himself so that he’s nestled between both Kurt and Blaine as he curls into a ball.

 

Fifteen years of age clearly had done nothing to diminish his kitten-like tendencies. He tucks his little head under Kurt’s chin and purrs obscenely loudly, almost gloating against his chest.

 

“He was finally trained until you came along, you know?” Blaine grumbles, poking gently at Thatcher’s little bottom. “All those years of training… and for what? Nothing,” Blaine carries on, mumbling sleepily as he pets Thatcher, gently stroking his fur. Jester pays him no mind, with his eyes closed tight and his ears flattened under Kurt’s jaw; he also has that smugly sweet feline smile, the one that says, “Ha. I win!”

 

“You still think this is better than having kids, huh?” Blaine croaks out toward his husband. After the interruptions and extra bodies, sleep has obviously left _his_ body’s agenda for the time being.

 

When he’s met with silence, Blaine turns his head and blinks his eyes open just in time to see Kurt crack a wide but sleepy smile, his face mushed to the pillow and Jester’s face mushed to his. The longer Blaine’s awake, the more his eyes adjust and adapt to the darkness around him; dark shadows are now turning into clearer, more familiar shapes.

 

Kurt is still just as beautiful, aging with grace as only expected. His chestnut tinted hair is still so thick and soft, with lightly speckled patches at his tips and at his temples. His body is still in great shape, and the morning swim and yoga sessions have really helped to soothe his backache from years of being bent over a sketchbook or computer, creating new and wonderful fashions. 

 

“Really, after aaallll these years you’re still asking me that, Honey?” Kurt replies, croaky and teasing. “I do believe that if you had so wished to expand our family of fur babies to real human babies, then you would have expressed yourself so much more clearly and persistently, and not after almost fifteen years, whenever you’re tired and grumpy from interrupted sleep.” Kurt turns his head toward his husband, ignoring Jester’s little grumble underneath him. “And do I even have to add that at least four of those fur babies were your idea in the first place?”

 

Blaine’s eyes snap open at that, his lips curling into a small sleepy grin that he’s trying hard to hide. His right hand finds Kurt’s left, and he strokes the pad of his thumb over Kurt’s wedding band before moving on to the eternity ring Blaine had given him for their tenth wedding anniversary.

 

“Ok, Jes came with me originally, so he doesn’t count,” Blaine starts; Kurt hums a sleepy response.

 

“Yeah, but he’s more for me now anyway…”

 

Blaine politely chooses to ignore that. “And are you referring to the family of rabbits that hide out in the back garden? Because they are not specifically ‘our’ babies; they chose to join us and never leave.”

 

Kurt rouses enough to respond, “It’s probably hard to leave our tempting, brightly colored, delicious looking garden when you put vegetables and dishes of water out for them everyday, Blaine. Not to mention the hutch you built for them and fill with fresh straw everyday…”

 

“Ok, you know what? Let’s just leave Peter and Flopsy and Mopsy and Cott…”

 

Kurt barks out a loud laugh, interrupting his husband’s tirade.

 

“Well at least they help clean out the weeds in my herb garden,” Blaine adds petulantly. “What exactly does your _fish_ do to help out around here?”

 

“Oh, excuse me! You did _not_ just refer to my prize Koi as a common _fish?_ He is beautiful and peaceful and adds tranquillity to the garden. His pond is a work of art!”

 

“And the horses over in the paddock that stomp their hooves, whinny and kick their stable doors at seven every morning? How do they add to your serenity, huh?”

 

“Oh, come on now, you can’t live in the middle of a picturesque English countryside with acres of land, a farm at your door step, and not have some horses—”

 

“And the sheep across the way that are nearly at lambing season, meaning we’ll need to be on hand for round the clock bottle feeding?”

 

There’s a beat of silence, the gentle grumble of snoring and soft breathing from the two little bodies between them; Blaine sees Kurt open his mouth, ready to answer, but then yawn sleepily instead.

 

“What exactly is your argument here?” Kurt murmurs after a while, his voice low and quiet, sleep-broken with a light tone of contentment pitched in there somewhere. Blaine rolls over, allowing Thatcher to fall gently into the space left by his legs, where he promptly dozes back off with just a little puppy murmur and yawn.

 

Jester grumbles and mewls when Blaine drapes himself over Kurt’s chest, wrapping him up tight in his arms and legs, and buries his head under Kurt’s chin, almost nudging his beloved cat out of the way.

 

“ _My_ Kurt,” he whispers possessively when Jes flicks his tail at him irritably. “Go make friends with your brother.” All it takes is a tickle of Blaine’s fingers to Jester’s whiskers to deeply offend him, and he’s jumping off the bed and scrambling over to the plush loveseat by the bay window. Of course, this is another space he’s been taught is off limits, the lesson having gone to shambles since the arrival of his canine adopted brother.

 

“I don’t know,” Blaine breathes warmly against Kurt’s chest, dropping feather light kisses along the rounded collar line of Kurt’s t-shirt. “Were we actually arguing?”

 

“Dunno,” Kurt mumbles, tightening his hold around Blaine’s back. “Sounds to me like we were checking off all the very best things about having four-legged babies instead of the two-legged type.”

 

“What have I turned you into, huh?” Blaine whispers, the smile in his voice obvious. “Where is the award winning, prestigious, ranked top five in the whole world fashion designer? Where did he go, and who is this farmhand who has taken his place?”

 

Kurt grins into Blaine’s hair, inhaling the coconut scent of last night’s shampoo. “Oh yeah? Well, what about my multi-Grammy award winner, heartthrob of a husband? Last time I checked, shovelling manure compost wasn’t exactly A-list worthy!”

 

“Oh pfftt, what do you know?” Blaine laughs, pulling himself up to blow a raspberry against Kurt’s cheek, laughing along with him until he’s too tired to hold his head up and resorts to kissing down his neck.

 

“You know what I got out of all that?” Kurt whispers, tracing Blaine’s bicep through the thin cotton of his shirt.

 

“Mmm?” was Blaine’s only response.

 

“That we have a pretty awesome life. We are some lucky dudes,” Kurt murmurs quietly, sleepy and happy.

 

“That we are, Mr. Hummel-Anderson. That we are,” Blaine sighs, smiling and still mouthing against Kurt’s throat. He curls himself tighter against Kurt’s warmth. “What do you say we sleep for a little bit longer, and then I’ll treat you to crepes for breakfast? I think my strawberries have ripened enough to use now.”

 

“What do you mean, ‘treat’? It’s your turn to cook!” Kurt grumbles and is answered with a pinch of Blaine’s fingers to his side.

 

“Sshh. Sleep. Love you,” Blaine whispers, barely audible as he rubs his face against Kurt’s chest.

 

“Love you, too. Like a lot…. And your crepes…and your home grown fruit…and vegetables…and…”

 

“Ssshhh,” Blaine rubs his palms in wide soothing circles up and down his husband’s side, a tempting bid to will him to sleep.

 

Blaine smiles with satisfaction when Kurt’s breathing starts to even out, his chest rising and falling steadily—until a loud cacophony sounds out from the roof above their window.

 

Thatcher leaps up from his spot on the bed, howling wildly in response, his little ears pricked forward and nose pointed upward. Jester hisses with disdain, mewling angrily, and Kurt swats repeatedly at Blaine’s shoulder, both of them groaning.

 

“It was definitely _not me_ who agreed to owning a cockerel.”

 

“Kurt, we like freshly laid eggs—and we can’t have those without hens and—”

 

“I know, Dear. I know about the birds and the bees, thank you very much.” Blaine buries his head lower on Kurt’s chest, just about to pull the bed covers up and over them when Thatcher lands on top of him, panting and tugging at his long sleeved tee, growling playfully.

 

“Ok, ok! I’m up!”

 

 _“We’re_ up _.”_

 

*

 

Kurt smiles up into the sun-filled, cloudless, pale blue sky as Thatcher bounds up to him from across the lush green lawn, a slimy tennis ball hanging between his little pointed teeth, big pink tongue lolling to one side. The weather has been rather generous to them so far, during this fine English spring with dry, warm days, perfect for alfresco breakfasts and BBQs for sunset dinners.

 

“Good boy, Thatch!” Kurt takes the ball from the panting dog’s mouth, grimacing at the wetness, and tosses it into the distance towards the trees and bushes planted at the bottom of the garden.

 

“Watch my roses,” Blaine warns from his seat at a small wrought iron table on the wood-decked patio. He glances up from his newspaper as he sips from his coffee mug.

 

“Yes, Dear,” Kurt sing-songs, grinning mischievously. The light wind provides a sudden gust and blows directly over to Blaine, through his wayward curls and almost knocking the paper from his hands.

 

The sunlight is reflected in Blaine’s whiskey-hued eyes as he tuts and snaps his paper back into place, his irises glinting beautifully. Kurt marvels at how his husband seems to grow only more striking as time passes, and he finds himself looking forward to the many more years they’ll have here together.

 

For both being in their mid-forties, they’re both in pretty phenomenal shape with looks to match and only light tell-tale laughter lines forming at the crinkled corners of their eyes and mouths. They often still find themselves fairly close to the top in the ranking of ‘Hot Celebrity Couples’ of many magazines and websites according to Santana, who keeps them informed of such things.

 

Blaine glances up again, catching Kurt’s eyes, and winks. He neatly folds his paper and places it on the table, standing and intercepting Thatcher with a grin as the little ball of blurred fur runs back toward their table. Blaine takes the ball from his mouth and pretends to throw it in all different directions, causing the little dog to bounce up and down on the spot and bark excitedly.

 

A pair of strong, familiar arms wrap around Blaine’s waist from behind, a chin hooked over his shoulder with warm, sweet breath blown across the side of his neck.

 

“Tease,” Kurt breathes, as he starts to sway them slowly on the spot, carefully sliding one of his legs in between Blaine’s.

 

Blaine finally throws the ball in the opposite direction of his bed of roses, watching as Thatcher takes off towards the bottom of the lawn again. He lifts his arms up and back, his hands finding the back of Kurt’s head, and gently curls his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. Kurt wears less hair product these days, especially when just at home with Blaine. Blaine definitely likes it—easier access when they’re both in their more rambunctious moods.

 

“Me or you?” Blaine murmurs, turning his head to nibble against Kurt’s jaw. “’Cause right now I’d say it’s debatable.”  

 

Thatcher retrieves the ball but instead of bringing it back, he stretches himself across the lawn on his belly and starts determinedly gnawing at the saturated ball.

 

Kurt cranes his neck, giving Blaine more room to roam with his fingers, sighing blissfully as he looks out across the colorful flowerbeds and fruit trees. “Perfect.”

 

“What? Perfect that he’s chewing? Yeah, it’s great. Just wait until he finds your favorite slippers…”

 

Kurt playfully tightens his hold around Blaine’s waist. “He’ll only manage that if he has an accomplice. I have my eye on you, Anderson…”

 

“Hummel-Anderson,” Blaine retorts doing his best to act affronted, but his big grin is a huge giveaway. They laugh freely together.

 

“No, I mean this—this is perfect— _everything_ is perfect,” Kurt says, kissing Blaine’s cheek.

 

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees, sounding as if he’s light-years away, floating in some blissful realm where time stands still.

 

“You know that I never used to come here? You know, before you…before _us,_ ” Kurt says almost a little pensively.

 

“Yes, I remember you saying you had this place, but you hadn’t come here for a long time.”

 

“I had no reason to. And now it’s crazy to think that this is my home, my life. You. With you. _Because of you.”_

Blaine turns in Kurt’s arms, carefully draping his arms around Kurt’s shoulders. “Love,” he whispers, “you ok?”

 

Kurt has done a lot of growing over the past fifteen years, not so much physically but emotionally and spiritually. He opens up now, he expresses, he talks and he doesn’t hide. Blaine loves him even more for it, and always just lets him express himself however he needs to in order to achieve that state of contentedness they both enjoy.

 

Kurt nods, moves in to kiss Blaine’s cheek again, then presses their lips together softly. “Like I said, _perfect_.” Before he can move in to kiss his husband again, this time with more intention, Blaine is already grinning and beating him to it.

 

Blaine dips Kurt backwards in his arms, plants a big one on his lips, and then hauls him back to his feet and drags him towards their hammock, tied between two large birch trees for a late morning rendezvous.

 

*

 

Semi-retirement was definitely an early venture for them, but not entirely surprising or unexpected. Money is a non-issue, and there is no concern or competition regarding which business is providing more financial support. They acknowledge their good fortune, but also credit themselves for all their hard work. And, as the years, travel, events, and awards have accumulated, they’ve realized even more that all they truly need and desire is each other.

 

Choosing to pack up their life and move to their cherished countrified Harrogate estate about a year and a half ago had been one of the quickest, easiest choices they’d ever made. And with that choice came their new, budding love for rural life, and they soon found themselves extending their space by building stables and pens on their acres of land. Nearby are a number of kind and friendly farming neighbors whom they have grown to trust and treasure over the years and are always around to help if needed. However, this way of life, this intimate closeness of just them, their animals, the fresh country air and roaring fire to fend off the chill has become almost second nature to them.

 

Of course, Kurt and Blaine still have a joint office upstairs in a newly converted old stone building, just out the back. They use it to check on their businesses long-distance as needed, and Kurt has made one of the downstairs sun-rooms into a cozy little drawing room, perfect for natural light and clarity. Once every couple months or so they fly to New York, Kurt to touch base with whatever projects his fashion teams are currently working on and Blaine to touch base with the creative teams at his label’s studios. They also use this time to spend with family and friends, who are now at more of a physical distance, but still kept close at heart and never forgotten.

 

Blaine still works down in the basement studio Kurt created for him all those years ago, often using the gesture of a thumbs down, meaning he’s going to head down and ‘play’ for a while. Currently his ‘play time’ involves finishing up an original score for a London’s West End musical; the producers had been eager to have him on their team ever since hearing that he and Kurt had immigrated on a more or less permanent basis.

 

Santana and Brittany also are now married, living in Kurt’s and Blaine’s old New York condo with their twin daughters. Brittany has postponed full-time touring as a dancer, but makes occasional guest appearances, and Santana continues as Kurt’s and Blaine’s publicist, fulfilling her duties from afar. Both careers enable the couple to enjoy both their professional and stay-at-home mom careers. Sam moved with the couple over to the UK, where he now runs his own charity-based company, supporting families in less than ideal circumstances. He lives just outside of London, just a few hours away with his wife, one of the charity’s project managers, and they’re expecting their first child. He and his wife stay in touch with Blaine and Kurt, who have already agreed to be the child’s godfathers, something they’re looking forward to—having all the fun with a ‘two-legged’ baby, but without all the parenting responsibilities.

 

Cooper returned to where he belongs after his PA stint gained him publicity and multiple offers for modelling and TV work once again. He has returned to live in LA in a larger, nicer home with his long-time TV soap actress girlfriend, and he stays in touch via Skype as often as their schedules permit.

 

Moving even farther away from Burt and Carole had been the toughest decision to make. After years of rekindling his relationship with his father and enjoying his special ties with Carole, Kurt had offered on many occasions to move them to England, too, with bribes of a quaint cottage just a half hour drive from them. Burt insisted he was too young to retire and was steadfast in his preference of Ohio weather as opposed to the northeast of England.  

 

In many ways, it often feels as if they never really moved that far away, as there was always a trip here or there or a vacation planned where the whole family, including Blaine’s parents, get together. And, of course, the wonders of technology help keep everyone in touch, as well.

 

All in all married life has been exactly what they’d hoped—love, companionship, camaraderie, opportunities to grow and, of course, challenges. There have been spats and fallouts as might be expected with any relationship between hard working, independent, strong willed, passionate and intelligent adults.

 

There was a spectacular walk-out that Kurt had attempted not long before their eighth wedding anniversary when, in the course of an argument, he made a sarcastic and somewhat spiteful comment to Blaine, who then angrily and somewhat tearfully retorted that Jester didn’t love him anyway—because that was the best he could come up with in his frustration. That particular situation resulted in Kurt returning less than half an hour later followed by countless hours of both men apologizing profusely and pathetically, a lot of make up sex and then laughing almost to tears because they couldn’t even remember what started it all in the first place.

 

Marriage, as with life in general, is always going to be a work in progress, especially in a relationship such as theirs, born from deep-rooted need and want and desire—spiralling into something else entirely, scary but sure—back when everything was just _maybe_ and _until_.

 

In the beginning, when everything was new and unsure and unexpected, the phrase _until further notice_ had been a statement. It had been a way for both men to articulate what was happening between them, first professionally and then much more personally.

 

It was a silent plea and a confession, a “please don’t hurt me; this may not last, but I really want it to,” without having to actually say the words themselves, which at that time felt too dangerous to place in the air between them. Deep down, they both knew that _until further notice_ had actually, simply meant, “This is all I can give you for now, but I want to be able to give you more. Please don’t leave, not yet, not ever.”

 

And then _until forever_ had been born, and whether officially signed off and witnessed during a marriage ceremony or not, those words had always been in the back of their minds, tucked up into their hearts. They’d always been true, no matter the context or situation.

 

And _now_ they have moved beyond ‘until further notice’ and even beyond ‘until forever’, and _now_ ‘until’… _is no longer needed_ at all _._ They no longer worry that what they have and what they desire may be cut short, because they have moved beyond that, they’re better than that. They _are_ now and forever; it’s really that simple.

 

They were once sitting opposite each other in a half empty office, high up in the middle of New York City, their lives passing by, with everything they thought they wanted waiting in the wings, worry and fear and curiosity and wonder etched deep into their faces, and pooled into the depths of their eyes.

 

Two men, once seemingly so different, yet with so much in common, awaiting the same destiny without even knowing it—awaiting _each other_. 

 

Two men, once strangers, once employer and employee, caught up with too many ifs, ands, buts, and conditions. Now they are equal; now they are Kurt and Blaine Hummel-Anderson, business partners, loving husbands, the best and closest of friends.

 

And most importantly—they are unconditionally _Forever_.

 

_Fin!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you and virtual hug to AncientGleek for doing a wonderful job of beta-ing the last few chapters for me. Thank you for guiding me through the mess of my own words and thoughts, and for asking the right questions and prompting the best out of me. I only wish you had have came on board sooner. Big love to you. 
> 
> Thank you to everybody who has continued to read and review and support this story right from the UFN days. There wouldn't have been a sequel without you guys. I hope you like the conclusion to this little tale, please do a leave a wee comment to let me know you're still there. I'm so grateful for all of your kind words for the little story stuck in my head now turned into something so dear.
> 
> One last thing, there is a little addition to the verse' on its way hopefully within the next week or so, so keep an eye out for that. A thousand thank yous. 
> 
> H x


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